Judge Not You Know the Rest
by tonygirl
Summary: The name of the game is adaptability, and Eve doesn't quite know exactly where to begin. Until she starts work in the infamous Manhattan Criminal Court Part Two, where insane is the new normal. OC, so YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!
1. A Mule Named Reinhold

I do not own anything to do with 'Night Court.' No money. No rights. Nothing at all. All I get out of it is amusement, and some annoyance that the powers that be will not put out the seasons any faster than they already have.

* * *

Eve didn't like night. Especially in New York. And _especially_ in Manhattan.

Night time was lonely. And even in late fall, it was damn freezing!

And, she never could quite understand why this city was just as bustling at 11 in the evening as it was at 11 in the morning. Where did all those people have to be so late at night, anyway? If she had her druthers, she'd be in bed, the heat kicked up on high, with a good book.

But, that would be if she could afford to run her thermostat that high.

She fought her way up the steps of the courthouse, holding her only warm coat tightly about her to keep out the frigid breeze. She passed a beggar on the steps, holding out his hand for money. When she first started working at the courthouse, she took pity on any beggar she came across and gave them change. However, she also found out that some of those same people make as much begging for change in a day as she made in a week as a court reporter.

So, she stopped the free handouts. But, not without a guilty thought to what her grandmother would say about not helping those in need.

Obviously, her grandmother had never left Bourbon County, Kentucky.

Plus, she could use the extra money. Living alone in New York City was taking up about as much as she made. And to think, when she accepted the job, she thought she would be rich. It paid so much more than her previous job at the courthouse back home.

Ha!

She waited on the elevator in the dim lobby of the courthouse with several other people. As usual, the heater worked sporadically, alternating between cool air with occasional hotter-than-hell blasts.

The courthouse was a typical government building in need of typical everyday repairs – new paint, new electrical system and basically a top-to-bottom cleaning job by officials highly trained in toxic waste.

At least the courthouse in Kentucky where she started out had some small-town charm, a historic market adorning the lawn outside. The monstrosity here was just another dull concrete building in a city chock-full of them.

And, at least the kindly old judge back home who she had known since her toddler years would never have cornered her with lewd suggestions like the old coot judge she worked for now.

Or at least, she had worked for until last week.

She shuddered, not from the cold – the elevator was stuffy and hot – but from the thought of his vile, old man breath so close to her face.

She looked down at her new – and hopefully less icky – assignment for a hopefully less icky judge. The night session was her 'punishment' for standing up against such a powerful judge, but it was worth it to get the hell out of there!

_Judge Harold T. Stone._

Eve tapped the sheet of paper on her hand. She had heard stories about this late night court session on the 18th floor – the strange cases and the even stranger people that ran the place. But, she never paid it much attention. She was too busy trying to do her job for Judge Mathis and stay out of his way at the same time.

_For what good it did me._

Engrossed in her thoughts, she didn't look where she was going when the elevator dinged and the doors grinded open. When she stepped off, she ran smack into a wall.

_What the hell is a wall doing so close to the elevator doors?_

Except most walls don't have shiny buttons and carry city-issued pistols.

She slowly raised her head, a little apprehensive the more she craned her neck.

_Nope. Definitely not a wall._

"Uh . . . hi," she said, eyes wide.

All the extremely tall, extremely bald man did was look at her.

Eve took a deep breath. He was a bailiff. A scary bailiff, but a bailiff nonetheless. So, there was no need to be apprehensive. No one was going to rob her or rape her or carry her off into an alley way just like her best friend had her convinced would happen when she moved here.

It still amazed Eve that was still her first impression of meeting anyone new in this place.

She looked down at the paper in her hands, shaking slightly as her apprehension subsided. "Uh . . . Judge Stone's courtroom?"

The man never spoke, just pointed down the hall.

"Um . . . thanks." _I think._

Before she could take a step in the right direction, a rather suggestively-dressed woman went racing down the hallway past them. Eve backed against the elevator doors to keep from getting trampled.

"You stay away from me, you creep!" the woman yelled at the top of her lungs as she darted by Eve and the scary bailiff, leaving a trail of cheap perfume in her wake. "My name's Sally, not Samantha!"

"Aw, c'mon, Samantha . . ." A well-dressed, but rather harried looking man was giving chase. He stopped close to Eve and her new scary friend. She noticed he was almost as tall as this bailiff, but not quite. And probably a little older, although his graying hair suited him.

"It's Sally, you nimrod! Do I need to spell it for you?" Sally's voice carried well from the other end of the hall.

Eve looked up at the bailiff, wondering if this was at all strange.

Apparently, it was not. He did not look ruffled at all. If he even had the capability to look ruffled.

The well-tailored nimrod rolled his eyes and adjusted his coat. "Fine, _Sally_, you just look like a girl I used to know. It was an honest mistake. Really. And, she used to like to do . . . what you were doing."

By now, Sally had stopped her flight. She turned, her hand haughtily on her hip. "An honest mistake, huh, Dan?"

He thought he had her, Eve could tell. "Sure. An honest mistake."

Eve raised an eyebrow at his placating tone.

"Now, why don't we go back to our . . . discussion?" He tried to keep the pleading out of his deep voice.

Sally crossed her arms, actually appearing to think about it. "You would like that, wouldn't you Dan? You get what you want, and I don't hear from you again. I know you. I've heard about you. And let me tell you something, buster, I deserve better than Dan Fielding." She gave a wicked smile. "Or, should I say Reinhold?"

Dan immediately interrupted her. "Shhh, Sam . . . Sally!"

By now, a small crowd had gathered at the scene.

But, Sally had the upper-hand. "Reinhold! Reinhold! Reinhold!" She yelled at the top of her lungs, pleased with herself.

He started to lunge down the hall after Sally, but when he darted by Eve, Scary Bailiff Man grabbed him by the collar, lifting him off the floor a couple of inches.

Sally and her sing-song version of "Reinhold" disappeared down the hall.

Dan struggled. "You know, this suit is worth more than your car."

The bailiff didn't look impressed.

Dan kept struggling, but gave up at the iron grip the man had on his neck. He gritted his teeth. "Bull, if you don't put me down, I'll tell the city you volunteered to be a float in the next Thanksgiving parade."

"If you promise to be nice."

Dan rolled his eyes. "That'll be the day."

Eve couldn't help herself. Not only was the bailiff named Bull, which was _way_ too appropriate, but this Dan fellow looked so silly hanging from Bull's massive paw that she started giggling.

Dan, still dangling by his collar, glared down at her. "Oh, you think this is funny, don't you?"

Eve tried to stifle her laugher behind her hand, but failed miserably. She had not had a lot to laugh about recently, so once she started, she couldn't stop.

Dan started to say something, but Bull shook him a little bit. "Be nice," he warned.

"Oh, al_right_! What are you, the polite police or something?"

Bull let him go, and Dan stumbled forward a bit, managing to catch himself before he fell to the ground.

Apparently, Sally had detoured back down a nearby hallway, and echoes of "Reinhold" could still be heard nearby. It only made Eve giggle louder.

Dan narrowed his eyes. "You sure are getting a good laugh at my expense, aren't you?"

"I think it's a lovely name," Eve managed. "I had a mule once named Reinhold."

"Oh, a mule, huh?"

Eve didn't know what came over her. She didn't generally insult people she didn't even know. Tucking a strand of straight brown hair behind her ear, she found herself saying. "Actually, he was an ass. A really big ass."

Dan stared at her, his dark eyes disbelieving. And for a quick moment, Eve thought she saw something she would never had thought to see on someone's face that she had insulted – respect.

Bull's bark of laughter startled them both, and when she looked at Dan again, it had vanished. Probably imagined anyway.

Dan turned his steely eyes on Bull. "Oh, so now you're getting a laugh at Dan Fielding's expense, aren't you?" He straightened his coat, trying his best to look dignified. "Don't think I won't remember that." He shook his finger at Eve. "Both of you." He stalked away, his head held high.

Eve looked up at Bull, and they both laughed.

_What a place!_

"C'mon, folks. Big night ahead." What looked like a little boy in a judge's robe went breezing by them into the courtroom, a stressed man in a vest with an armful of files right behind him.

Eve looked down at the note in her hand. Boy, Judge Stone looked even younger than she heard he was.

Good thing for Eve that no matter the courtroom, all court reporting equipment was the same. After shedding her coat and bag, she took her seat at the shorthand machine. No need to look around. It all looked the same, no matter if she were in Kentucky or New York.

"All rise. Manhattan Criminal Court Part Two is now in session, the Honorable Judge Harold T. Stone presiding." Bull said his part with no emotion whatsoever.

"Well, well, we have a big crowd tonight," Judge Stone said as he settled behind the podium, propping his feet on the desktop. Everyone followed his cue and sat down. "I see some regulars out there, and some new faces, as well. But, don't worry folks, you'll all get your turn."

Eve had to pause a moment.

Was the judge actually talking candidly to those in the audience?

She didn't even look up when the council approached the podium for the first case.

"Excuse me? Miss?"

Eve paused and realized no one had answered. Thinking that strange, she looked up from her machine and realized everyone was looking at her.

_What the . . ._

She looked above her and saw the judge's head peeking over the podium.

"Yes, sir?" she managed to squeak. She could feel all eyes on her and didn't like it one bit. So much for being anonymous.

"I see you're new here at the OK Corral. But, you sure come highly qualified from Judge Mathis."

Maybe because it was late at night or because she embarrassed that made her spit out the first thing that came to mind. "He better after the way he tried to paw me. Oops!" She put her hand over her mouth and flushed even more. The advantage of being a brunette was she didn't flush easily, but when she got too embarrassed, it was a sight to see.

All the judge did was laugh. "I appreciate your candor, Miss . . ."

"Uh . . . Cantrell. Evelyn Cantrell. But, you can call me Eve." She was trying to figure out if this little conversation needed to go in the minutes, as well.

"Harold T. Stone. But, you can call me Harry. When we're not in session of course." He surprised her by reaching over the podium with his hand, a friendly smile on his face.

A little hesitantly, Eve took it as he watched her merrily. No one else seemed to think this whole situation was strange, so maybe she was the one who was weird.

Scary thought. She was always the boring, normal one.

"Look a little flummoxed, Miss Cantrell. Let's introduce you to the troops. Make you feel a little more at home." He motioned to the desk next to his. "This is Mac. Best clerk you'll ever meet."

Engrossed in an ancient-looking computer on his desk, Mac gave her a little wave.

"He thinks he's going to be the next Dr. Seuss," Harry whispered hoarsely.

"Heard that, sir." Mac didn't even look up from the computer.

Harry shrugged and continued. "And this lovely young defender of the common folk is Christine Sullivan."

"Hi, Eve. Nice to meet you," the rather sunny attorney beamed. Eve couldn't help but smile back.

"And this is Assistant District Attorney . . ."

"We've met," Dan remarked dryly, peering down at her, adjusting the front of his coat.

Eve knew she was probably blushing to the roots of her hair.

Harry chuckled. "I imagine if she knees all men that make obscene gestures at her like she did Judge Mathis, you might want to wear a cup in the courtroom, Dan."

"You know, I wondered why the judge had to sit on an ice pack all last week," Christine said, more to herself than anyone else.

"Ha, ha." Dan really was not amused.

And Eve wanted the floor to swallow her up whole. Not only had the entire courthouse apparently heard about her tussle with Judge Mathis, but she had managed to piss off someone who was next in line for district attorney!

_Good job, Eve. Great first impression._

"We're rather informal around here, Miss Cantrell," Harry continued. "Feel free to ask questions if you need to."

"Oh, ah, no, sir. I think I . . . got it."

"Very well. First case, Mac." Harry held out his hand, but nothing happened. "Ohhh, Mack-y. Time to work-y," he said in a sing-song tone.

"Just a minute, sir. Trying to put the finishing touches on this."

"Mac, do I need to sic Roz on you?"

Eve looked behind her.

Bull, she had met, but Roz took formidable to a whole new level.

Apparently, Mac thought so, too. He immediately handed a file to the judge. "_Parsons vs. the City of Manhattan_. Apparently, Mr. Parsons here fell into a manhole and wants to sue the city."

The judge looked at the little man with both arms in casts and a neck brace. "Was there negligence by the city involved, Mr. Counselor?"

"Sure, if you think stealing a manhole cover, then falling into the hole because you forgot you had stolen it negligence," Dan remarked caustically.

Christine chimed in. "Sir, my client has been laid off for sometime and was only trying to find something to eat . . ."

"In the sewer?" Dan eyed the client distastefully.

"Not in the sewer, Dan," Christine sighed.

Eve got the distinct impression exasperation with the ADA was a regular occurrence around here.

"He wanted to recycle the manhole cover for the money to buy food."

"Well, Mr. Parsons, stealing manhole covers is a misdemeanor offense with up to one year in jail. But, you look like you've suffered enough. Penalty is time served." He banged the gavel once. "Go see the unemployment office tomorrow. Maybe they can help."

And on the night went.

It wasn't too bad. At least not as bad as she expected. And she always expected the worst.

But, when Harry banged the gavel for the last time, Eve was relieved. It took some effort to keep up with the goings-on in the courtroom, and she was glad it was over for the night.

This had to be the strangest court she'd ever been in.

"So, Eve, what do you think of your first night in our humble little courtroom? Any questions?" Harry asked.

She looked around at the wave of humanity exiting the room, sightseeing even at this late hour. "I do have one question, Judge Stone."

"Harry. It's just Harry now."

She smiled at him. "Harry. How come I never saw any of these weird cases during the day?"

"Welcome to my world, sweetheart."

"No, Dan, I will not spit shine your shoes for you, or any other part of you for that matter!" Christine said, stuffing papers in her briefcase.

Their conversation interrupted, Eve and Harry watched the two spar.

"Please! Just one shoe! And, I won't even make you wear the maid outfit!"

"You are disgusting, you know that?"

Dan actually looked proud of himself. "Thanks." He followed Christine out the door. "I do have this barbarian outfit you would look spectacular in . . ."

Eve looked at Harry and motioned. "Is he always this . . . uh . . . oversexed?"

"Oh, Dan's relatively harmless. Don't pay him any attention."

"Yeah, he might be harmless if you weren't such a pert little thing." Roz tossed a couple of files carelessly on Harry's desk.

"I have a feeling Ms. Evelyn Cantrell can take care of herself," Harry leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head as he studied her.

"I heard about Judge Mathis," Roz said.

Eve made a face. "It wasn't my finest hour, I admit. But, I did not make a good first impression on Mr. Fielding. I don't think he and I will be getting very . . . close."

Roz studied her for a moment. "You know, you're such a small wisp of a thing, I never would have taken you for kneeing judges and calling attorneys asses."

Eve was under the impression that Roz didn't hand out compliments left and right. And she wasn't so sure that either one of those Roz mentioned was a good thing.

All New York seemed to do was bring out the worst in her. And although everyone around her seemed to approve, she wasn't sure it was for the best.


	2. Fishing & Wrestling Alligators

It was easy to fall into the pattern of the place, albeit as crazy as it seemed. Not one to ever dislike her job, it was always very predictable, even in Judge Mathis's courtroom.

But, this assignment was anything put predictable. Before her first week was up, she saw a slew of people who believed they were aliens, a guy who crawled along the base boards because he thought he was a roach and enough hookers to fill a good-sized restaurant. There was cussing and bodily fluids and bomb threats, everything bad she had heard about New York City walking though the doorway each night.

And Eve liked it.

Sure, it took some getting used to. But, it was quite fascinating to watch Harry try to help some of these poor creatures. It was amazing what a kind word would do for some of these people who had not heard one in years. While unorthodox at best, it seemed to work, at least in Eve's point of view.

Plus, she really didn't have anything to worry about in the safety department. Although he scared the living crap out of her the first time she saw him, Bull had taken it upon himself to be her guardian.

When some drunk made a pass at her in the cafeteria, he personally hauled the guy out the door and threatened to toss him down the garbage shoot.

"Don't worry about that, Eve. He gets that way with every new woman around here. You should've seen him the first week Christine was here. Had a group of monks stand in the corner because he thought they were ogling her legs." Roz dipped a fry in ketchup and popped it in her mouth.

Eve craned her neck to see if Bull was actually going to chunk the poor fellow in the garbage. "It's not a bad thing, really. Kind of . . . comforting, I suppose."

Roz nodded once. "Good. Just don't let it scare you. Bull means well, but he gets carried away sometimes."

Dan had sidled up to their table. "Well, I think . . ."

"No one cares what you think, Dan," Roz interrupted.

The assistant DA hadn't had much to say to her since her first night, although she had caught him watching her on occasion. But, judging on what she had learned about him and what she saw nightly in the courtroom, leering was probably more like it.

But, Roz's comment didn't stop Dan. "I think Paul Bunyon's got a crush on you, Eviegirl. Better watch out."

"Leave her alone, Dan," Christine said, taking a sip of coffee. "Besides how do you know what a crush is anyway? All you do is go straight to bed with any woman you meet."

Dan tossed his briefcase on the table, inviting himself to join the three women. Reluctantly, they made room. "That's a lie, and you know it. I haven't slept with anyone at this table." He threw a suggestive glance in Christine's direction. "Yet."

"Dream on, Fielding." Christine gathered the remnants of her supper and put them on her tray. "See you guys later."

Roz rose, as well. "Gotta make sure Bull really didn't throw that guy 18 flights down the trash shoot."

Dan leaned back in the chair, stretching his long legs out underneath the table. "Boy, I sure know how to break up a party, don't I?" his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Once again, Eve's newfound bluntness reared its ugly head. "It seems to me that you chase everyone away from you all on your own."

Dan cut his eyes at her. "Oh, so have you been taking psych classes on the side, maybe? Aiming for an internship at Bellview?"

Eve resisted her first impulse to beat him over the head with her tray. "I've seen you hit on anything in a skirt and score with some of them . . ."

He raised an eyebrow. "Some of them? Try most of them."

"Whatever. But all I know is . . ."

"He's not bothering you, is he, Eve?" Bull towered over them both.

Dan looked annoyed for a moment and craned his neck. "Oh, look, it's Mr. Potato Head on steroids. No, I'm not bothering her, you nitwit. We're just having a _pleasant_ conversation." He almost had to spit out the word 'pleasant.'

Bull looked at Eve for verification. "It's alright, Bull."

Dan propped his arm on the back of the chair. "Why do you feel the need to protect Eviegirl? She's got those big beautiful doe-eyes that practically beg a man to save her, but I think she's far from helpless."

Bull shrugged. "I dunno. She's a woman. All women need help."

"Tell that to Roz," Dan muttered, gathering up his briefcase. "It's been pleasant . . . not."

Eve watched him go.

"That man has more issues than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs," she muttered.

"Huh?"

"Never mind, Bull. Never mind."

* * *

Eve blew out a large breath. It was raining.

Great. Just great.

Her one and only vehicle was parked in the little parking area 20 blocks away at her apartment. She could barely afford the gas to drive it around town, let alone the parking fees so close to the courthouse, so she mostly walked.

But, precipitation had not been in the forecast before she left to go to work, so she was not prepared. If she didn't break her ankle trying not to slip in high heels on the slick sidewalks, she would die of pneumonia from the wind kicking up the sensible knee-length skirt.

Cursing under her breath, she gathered her coat around herself as best as possible and trudged on.

She was so busy trying not to feel miserable that she didn't notice the car merge out of traffic next to the curb.

"Want a ride?" Dan asked, his well-tended Mercedes gleaming under the lights of New York.

For a moment, Eve was relieved.

But, it didn't last long.

_Good Lord, what are you thinking? _

She narrowed her eyes, tossing a strand of wet hair out of her face. "Not the kind of ride you have in mind."

For a moment, he ground his teeth in frustration, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "I meant do you want a lift home? In the car? Where it's dry and warm?"

She hesitated. He really hadn't made a pass at her, and she'd been there several weeks. She had studied the parade of women, most of them flashy to the point of tackiness, who'd came in and out of the courtroom on Dan Fielding's arm and knew he was way out of her league. Once, she even managed to catch him just this side of _in flagrante delicto_ with a woman in a leopard print leotard in the jury box after session.

Not that she was jealous.

Dan looked annoyed. "Look, I can't sit here all night. I got a date."

"Sure you do," Eve muttered. She thought about the 20 long blocks to her apartment, the real possibility of broken bones or illness staring her in the face. Sighing in resignation, she scurried around to the passenger side, slamming the door against the cold drizzle.

The heat was turned up high, and it was toasty inside as she settled into the sumptuous leather. It looked new, and knowing Dan, it probably was. It had every new gizmo and gadget on the market and even smelt . . . like Dan.

Eve's eyes widened.

_How the hell do you even know what he smells like?_

_He stands two feet from you in the courtroom for hours everyday. That's it. There's nothing to it._

"So, where're we headed?"

For a moment, Eve froze, thinking he sensed her thoughts.

_But, that's ridiculous. He means, where you live. Dummy._

"Um . . . corner of 5th and Rochester."

Dan expertly maneuvered back into traffic, then broke the silence. "You know, you're a hard person to be nice to."

"Well, it's a little unexpected, considering the source." God bless her newfound frankness.

"Boy, you have this mouth on you that just won't quit, don't you?"

"I . . . uh . . . guess I do need to be nice. After all, you did rescue me from a sodden walk home."

He glanced sideways at her. "Rescue you, huh? You strike me as the last person who needs rescuing."

Eve threw up her hands. "Why do you keep saying that?"

Dan's eyes were back on traffic. "I don't know, Eviegirl. You just don't seem to be the helpless type, I guess."

That nickname he branded her with only made her angrier. It sounded so . . . so . . . childish. And she was not a child!

"And why do you insist on calling me that? What if I start calling you Reinhold?"

"Or how about ass? That one seems to be really popular since your first day." He had to slam on brakes when traffic came to a sudden stop.

Eve taped her foot impatiently. Back home, if she were to accept a ride home from an acquaintance on a chilly, blustery night, there would be polite conversation about families and weather and probably horses. But, _nooo!_ Not here in New York City. Not only was politeness no where to be found, but the constant bickering back and forth was all they managed.

That's right. Fill the void with smart remarks.

Her brain automatically wanted to say something about his latest conquest – a woman with the largest surgically-enhanced breasts she had ever seen, but she clamped her lips shut. She didn't know if it was the city or the company, but it seemed to make her more snarky than she had ever been in her life.

Traffic had not resumed its normal stop and go rhythm, and Eve could see emergency lights several blocks ahead, their red and blue lights making patterns in the raindrops on the windshield. She sighed and adjusted her coat, settling back in the seat, enjoying the warmth. While she might have gotten home faster on foot, at least she was getting home dry.

Dan's voice startled her. "Where're you from?"

The question, so un-Danlike, threw her off-guard, so she didn't have time to come up with a smart-ass answer. "Kentucky."

He glanced over at her. "You have an accent."

Eve wondered for a moment about his sudden change from flippant to . . . to truly interested in a normal conversation. "Well, you don't exactly have that clipped nasal twang, either. I bet you're not from around here. Midwest, maybe?"

She could tell by the set of his jaw that he didn't want to tell her. He got that same look on his face when something came up in session that he really did not want to divulge, but knew he had to.

It startled her for a moment that she even realized that much about him.

"Louisiana."

"No kidding?" She looked out the windshield, traffic starting to crawl again, trying to hide her discomfort. "I never would have guessed. So, how did you wind up here?"

He gave a short laugh, sounding more like the Dan she was accustomed to. "Anything was better than there. I think I was stolen at birth by gypsies who hauled me to the swamp."

"Mmmm."

He looked at her. "What does that mean? 'Mmmm'?"

She shook her head. "For some reason, I just cannot see you growing up in a bayou fishing and wrestling alligators and whatever else it is people do down there."

"Well, maybe not wrestling alligators. Only on special occasions."

She had to giggle at that.

It made him smile. And, surprisingly enough, he continued his story.

"I worked at a local attorney's office in town and read everything I could get my little hands on. My parents were . . . they wouldn't have enough money to send me to school, so the law office paid my way. With the stipulation I work for them for three years after I graduated. Which I did."

"But when the three years was up . . ."

"I hightailed it out of there so quickly, it would've made your pretty little head spin."

"But, why New York? Why not Boston or Philly or even Atlanta?"

He made a face at Atlanta. "I preferred leaving the South. Plus, this is where I belong. I love it here. There's good food, fine entertainment . . ."

"And even finer women," Eve pointed out emphatically.

"Right-o." He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, but not impatiently. Traffic was flowing well now, and she'd soon be back at her apartment.

"You're good at what you do, I'll give you that." She had no idea where that came from. But, it was true.

"But, not the best?" he pouted.

Eve smirked. "I'll let you know when you fall in that category. Deal?"

"Deal."

"So, how did a Kentucky lass such as yourself wind up in mean 'ol New York City?"

Eve looked at the window at the wet streets. "I just wanted a change of scenery, I guess."

"Well, you got it, sweetheart. What did your family think?"

Eve was too preoccupied in her thoughts to realize he was fishing for information. "It's just me and my grandmother. I've lived with her, since I was two. My parents died in an automobile accident." She paused. People always felt the need to offer their condolences although it was many years ago, and she didn't remember her parents, anyway.

But, Dan didn't. He went up another notch in her book.

"It's just me and Gran. She raises horses for a living."

Dan's eyes lit up.

"Not those kind of horses," she added quickly. Most folks equaled horses in Kentucky to race horses. "These are the kind people buy for their children for Christmas or companies buy to pull carriages in Central Park. Just normal horses."

"Is there even a market for that?"

"Some years are better than others."

"I bet your grandmother misses you."

Eve smiled. Dan apparently wasn't as unfeeling towards others as he wanted people to think. "Gran stays too busy to miss anybody. She's either in the stables with the farm hands or at a church social or a rally of some sort. I'm sure she misses me, but she's got plenty other activities to fill the void."

"Sounds like a good woman. I bet she didn't like New York as your new home."

"Nope, not a bit. She and my best friend said I would get attacked before I'd been here a week."

"Mathis about took care of that, didn't he?" She would have sworn Dan muttered "creep" under his breath.

She stared at him for a moment. "But, isn't that what you do? Throw yourself at all those women?"

Hello, boldness. Goodbye, tact.

He glanced at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. "If they're up for some fun, who am I to deny it?"

She'd already pulled full steam ahead into this territory, so why not keep going? "What about Christine? She's obviously not interested, and yet . . ."  
"Oh, that's just in fun. I'd think she'd be disappointed if I didn't make a pass at her."

There was no time to comment. He expertly maneuvered the car out of traffic, miraculously finding an opening outside the door of her non-descript apartment complex.

She had her hand on the door handle, ready to say thanks, and get out of this awkward situation she found herself in.

But, he put the car into park and sat there for a moment, both hands on the steering wheel, the engine's idle barely audible.

So, she waited. Curiosity was always her downfall.

Dan cleared his throat. "I really offered to take you home because I wanted to ask you something."

Eve steeled herself. "What?" she asked cautiously.

Whatever it was, it wasn't easy for him to spit it out, that she could tell. He absently rubbed his hands back and forth on the leather of the steering wheel. "You said before tonight's session that I pushed everyone away, that everyone rejected me from my own choosing, not theirs."

Eve blinked. She remembered that, but didn't think self-centered Dan Fielding would have ever given her comment a second thought.

But, she'd been known to be wrong before.

Dan took a deep breath before he continued. "Well, I really was interested in hearing the rest of what you had to say. You know, before Bull the Barbarian interrupted us."

Eve took a large breath and held it for a moment.

"I think you were getting ready to give it to me with both barrels." He looked at her frankly.

She returned his gaze evenly. Full steam ahead. "I think you act the way you do to keep people from getting close to you. For some strange reason, you don't want them to see the real you, maybe someone hurt you in the past or it's just easier to pretend, so you cover it up with snide remarks and a disinterested attitude." She held out her hand, palm up. "You hide your true self from others," she held out her other hand, "and you don't get hurt. Easy." She put her hands down. "Except that no one gets to know you, and you waltz through life essentially alone."

Surprisingly, he didn't look angry or accusatory. But, he did look at her thoughtfully, the headlights from passing cars throwing patterns across his face. For a moment, Eve believed he was going to give her his honest assessment of her comments. For once, his eyes almost looked . . . defenseless.

But, the moment passed, and what vulnerability she thought she saw vanished under the practiced gaze of Daniel Fielding. "Eviegirl, I would call myself many things, but alone is not one of them," he smirked.

Eve didn't know what she was expecting, but honesty wasn't high on the list. She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure tonight's not any different, judging from the big ta-tas on the woman I saw you with yesterday."

His eyes didn't light up like they usually did when anyone mentioned his conquests. But, he still managed a snide comment. "The twins are always good for some company."

Eve shook her head and opened the door, the rain slowing to a drizzle. Before she slammed it shut, she turned around and stuck her head in the door. "By the way, I like the real Dan Fielding better. Thanks for the lift."

She didn't wait for a reaction. She shut the door and scurried around the front of the car and to the door of her building. Without turning around, she gave him a half-hearted wave as she struggled with the entry code.

Dan sat outside her building for awhile after she dashed inside, her words echoing inside his head.

It's not that no one had ever told him those exact words before. He had heard them time and time again from some of the people he considered his closest friends. But never from a stranger.

And that's all Eviegirl was. A stranger. A rather cute stranger with her straight brown hair and sensible clothing, but a stranger nonetheless.

Normally, he would have made pass after pass at any new woman within 20 feet of his work space, but she was different. He tried to tell himself it was Bull giving anyone dirty looks who even dared to approach her, but for some reason, he couldn't even convince himself of that.

With a shrug, he put the car into gear and zoomed into traffic, all thoughts of her straightforward brown eyes shoved aside in anticipation of the night's "activities."

* * *

Eve felt out-of-sorts. Sure, she was most definitely out-of-place in New York, but this was a different out-of-sorts, the kind that makes you wonder what exactly the world has in store. How many decisions had she made in life to wind up here? What about tomorrow, or next week or next month?

She was sprawled across her bed, reading a book she had picked up from the library. Usually, when she felt like this, talking to Gran helped. But, even her short, well-spirited conversation with her grandmother left her feeling not herself.

It had to have been her conversation with Dan.

She struggled to her feet and walked to the bedroom window, sweeping back the curtains. She had to buy black-out curtains because she was not accustomed to all of the light this city had to offer. Those lights shone brightly on the raindrops on the windowpane, giving the city a soft glow even this late at night.

Eve wasn't one to compare herself to other women, to wish for things that never would happen and to wonder what it would be like to be someone else.

And, she wouldn't start now.

How he had that affect on her, she didn't know. While courteous on a good day, he rarely gave her more than a perfunctory greeting. Offering to take her home was a blow out of leftfield. And allowing her to see a side of him that he obviously didn't reveal very often was downright shocking, to say the least.

The city was so large, so bustling, so full of life and people. Usually, she enjoyed her solitude, but tonight, the first vestiges of loneliness tried to creep up on her.

_I wonder if he's having fun with Miss Big Boobs?_

Disgusted with herself for even thinking such a thing, she let the curtains fall back and got ready for bed.


	3. A Harmless Cup of Joe

"Spousal abuse is a pretty stiff charge, Mr. Davis. What do you have to say for yourself?" Harry might have been young, but his tone belied respect.

Mr. Davis actually had the decency to look abashed. "I don't know what came over me, Judge. It's a mistake. Honest. I love Lizanne, and I wouldn't do nothing to hurt her." He tossed his bangs off his forehead, trying - and succeeding - to look like an innocent young man who made one mistake.

Eve wanted to barf all over his shoes.

His fiancée or girlfriend or whatever she was stood as far away as she could, staring at an imaginary spot on the floor, the side of her face that was black and blue turned away from the judge and council. She trembled, even though the room was not cold by a long shot.

The moment she walked into the courtroom, Eve's heart went out to her. She could spot a battered and bruised soul a mile away.

Eve hoped Harry didn't fall for this man's lies. She stole a glance up at him and was glad to see he didn't seem all that impressed.

"Steve, physical abuse of any kind has a 2-10 year stint in the state pen . . ."

The girlfriend's head jerked up at the mention of the sentence, but she didn't say anything.

But, Steve sure did a lot of talking. "Aw, c'mon Liz. You know I didn't mean it. I was just mad . . .and, well . . . you know. You know I love you."

Now, Eve wanted to slug him.

_That dirty, rotten, piece of . . ._

"Sir." Christine's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Can I have a moment with my client?"

Harry looked at Dan, and Dan shrugged. So, he banged the gavel. "Five minute recess, folks."

Eve couldn't help herself. She followed Christine and Liz to Harry's office and invited herself inside, ready to protest if Christine tried to throw her out.

All she did was look at her questioningly, but didn't argue with her presence.

Christine sat Liz down on the couch. "Now, Liz, honey. You do understand if you drop all charges, he won't be punished for what he did."

Liz started crying, and Eve went for a tissue, handing it to the girl. Liz gratefully took it and blew her nose. "I don't know what to do. He said he loved me . . ."

Christine was actually glad Eve was there. She was quiet, but was well-liked by everyone. Even Dan seemed to respect her enough to not harass her with his sexual innuendoes. Her presence in the courtroom was accepted just as much as anyone else. Plus, Christine wasn't too crazy about domestic violence cases, and she could use all the help she could get to throw the guy in the slammer.

Eve took her cue. She settled next to the girl, taking both her hands in hers. She noted the fading bruises on her arm. Apparently, this wasn't the only time he had shown her how much he "loved" her.

"Liz, look at me." Eve wanted to be sure she had her full attention.

At first, Liz didn't want to, but Eve coaxed her into meeting her eyes. "You feel shamed. Like this is your fault. But, this is _not_ your fault. You did not do _anything_ to deserve this. No one deserves this." She motioned towards the door. "He may make you feel like he loves you and respects you, but anyone who loves you would never do this." The bruises on her face were harsh in the fluorescent lighting of Harry's office. "File charges. Get help. There are places where you can go that will help you get on your feet. So many people want to help you out of this. Even us."

Liz sniffed, at first, seemingly grateful for her comments, only making the tears flow harder.

But, Eve could see it happening even before Liz realized what she was doing. She was clamming up, convincing herself of the lies battered women cling to: he really does love me, I really shouldn't have nagged him to take out the trash, etc. Maybe he was the only one to ever say he loved her or maybe she didn't have a good track record with men, but deep down inside, Eve knew what Liz was going to do even before Bull called them back into the courtroom.

"OK, Miss Sullivan, has your client made a decision." Harry waited patiently.

_C'mon, Liz. Throw the creep behind bars_.

Liz took a deep breath and held it for a moment before she answered. "Sir, I'd . . . I would like to drop all charges."

It was almost like Steve never doubted for a moment. His boyish face was all smiles as he took her hand possessively, as Eve stewed

Dan looked dubious, and Harry looked downright disgusted, but what could they do? It was a system that was too overloaded to begin with to fight every fight to the bitter end. "Fine, case dismissed." Harry banged the gavel once. "OK, folks, let's call it a night."

Eve glared as hatefully as she could at Steve, but he seemed oblivious, his smugness glaringly evident to everyone in the room as he graciously led Liz back to her nightmares.

"Damn it all to hell," Eve muttered under her breath as she tried to control her anger long enough to gather her things and get the hell out of here.

_I really hate this place._

Christine stalled her. "You were good in there with her."

"Well, yeah, not good enough, apparently."

"It's her decision."

Eve slammed her file down in her chair. "Is it really? That . . . that _man_ has stripped her of everything that allows her to make a decision for herself. He'll either kill her or beat her senseless everyday for the rest of her life, and you're saying there's _absolutely_ _nothing_ we can do about it? I . . ."

She looked up. All eyes were on her as she ranted. So, she bit her tongue. "Look, I'm sorry. It's not your fault. It's just . . . frustrating."

She gathered up her coat and papers quickly before anyone could say anything, wanting to get away from their prying eyes, certainly with prying questions to follow.

* * *

Dan had watched her face in court. He found himself doing that a lot lately, wanting to know how she reacted to these people and their sometimes sad, sometimes amusing situations. He always liked when something came along that made her smile. She had such a sweet smile, an honest one that reached her eyes long before her lips turned up.

It did something to his insides he'd never felt before, but he never tried to figure out what it was.

But, this last case was not one of those. He was surprised to see her follow Christine and the defendant out the door during the recess, and he would have loved to have been a fly on the wall for that conversation.

Obviously, it had not gone well.

Actually, he had never seen her so angry, trying desperately to control her contempt for this Davis man.

And, he wanted to know why.

It was the attorney in him, he told himself. Nothing more, nothing less.

He left his files and papers where they were strewn across the shabby table and followed her. She was already at the elevators, and he had to jog to catch her, figuring if he called out her name, she wouldn't stop, just stare at him with those big brown eyes that captivated him, even if he didn't realize it.

He reached her as she walked through the elevator doors, tugging slightly at her arm. "Eve, wait."

It was her first instinct to fight. "How come you didn't _do_ something? He beats her, Dan! It's wrong! And disgusting!"

He let go, stung. That was not what he expected, something else that always happened when it came to her. Then, he was immediately defensive. "That's the name of the game, sweetheart. I can only do what the law allows. You know that."

And just like that, all the fight left her. He could see her shoulders slump. "No, I'm sorry, Dan. It's just that . . . that case . . . made me want to lash out at somebody. Anybody!" She finally turned to look up at him. "And you just happened to be it."

"Look, lady, are you going to get on this thing or not. I don't have all night." The wino on board probably rode the elevator up and down all day long for kicks.

For some strange reason, Dan couldn't stay miffed at her long. He talked fast, something he knew he could do. "Let me buy you a cup of coffee." It was just a harmless cup of joe.

Wasn't it?

She hesitated for a moment, then backed away from the pungent elevator. They guy onboard hadn't seen a shower in awhile. "Sure. That sounds nice."

_Nice? Was that the best you could say?_

But, she had other things on her mind. Terrible things. Things she hadn't thought about it years. And, they scared her. Any company, even Dan's, was better than being alone.

Besides, Dan had actually been friendly lately. Not the sort of friendly he was with the women he paraded around with, but honest-to-goodness friendliness. At least, by Dan standards.

The cafeteria was empty at this time of night, most of the flotsam already making their way to wherever it was they slept at night. He kept his hand on her back, almost as if she would bolt any moment.

It was . . . comforting.

_When was the last time I felt comforted, anyway?_

_Not since I came here, that's for sure._

She sat at the cleanest table she could find and was lost in thought when he came back with two mugs of coffee.

"Last of the day's brew. Probably put hair on your chest." Dan sat the mug in front of her, and she automatically wrapped her hands around it, craving the warmth in her chilled fingers.

Dan settled across from her and sipped, waiting. He wasn't generally a patient man, but his instincts were telling him something else was going on here. She'd tell him eventually, but most certainly on her own terms.

"He reminded me of Josh."

He was afraid of that. "You mean this whatshisname Steve?"

She chewed the inside of her cheek before she answered. "The smug eyes. The temper. The bruises." She shuddered for a moment, and he almost reached out and touched her hand.

Almost.

Instead, he sipped his coffee, waiting on her to continue. On her own terms.

He was beginning to think he had to start prying it out of her when she continued. "I was eighteen. A stupid age to think you're in love. He was twenty-one and was so much fun. He had a motorcycle and a leather jacket and for once, the cool kid – the bad boy – was interested in dull little ol' me."

She took a moment to take a sip of her coffee, not meeting his eyes. Her hands shook slightly, and Dan's heart, at least what little he paid attention to, went out to her.

In a way, he was glad she was looking everywhere but at him. He knew she could see his emotions by just one glance, and he didn't want her to. Not this time.

Eve continued. "It was wonderful. When he got off work at the mechanic's, he'd pick me up, and we'd ride all over the countryside. It was beautiful that time of year, right before it gets so blistering hot." She chuckled. "Gran hated it. She said he was nothing but bad news. But, what did I know. I was in _love_."

Her last words dripped sarcasm, Dan noted.

And, he was afraid he saw what was coming. His hands gripped the mug so tightly that he was surprised when it didn't break under the pressure.

"It started out as small things. Verbal abuse. But, I always figured I deserved it. I pushed him too hard or nagged or something. He was that good at convincing me it was my fault. But, then . . ." She took a deep breath. "Then, one night, it changed. He hit me. Once. Punched me right in the face."

Dan thought his blood pressure would shoot through the roof, and he shifted in the chair, trying to calm his temper.

Eve didn't notice. "But, he was so good at making me realize how he didn't mean it. He was immediately sorry, and he kissed me and told me it was nothing, and he would never do it again, and he wanted to marry me. The 'm' word. Made it all go away. So, I told Gran I had fallen off his bike and believed every word he said." She shook her head at her own ignorance. "But, it only got worse. The last time, he beat me so badly, I was in the hospital for a week. I wised up. I got a restraining order, and he left town."

She finally glanced at him, warily trying to gaze his reaction at her perceived weaknesses.

Dan's heart lurched in his chest, but he tried to return her gaze as sincerely as he could manage.

But, Eve didn't seem to notice his struggles, so caught up in her own. Rightfully so. "I saw myself in Liz, and it angered me. I wanted to shake her, to make her see that what she was doing was wrong. Stupid and wrong."

"Do you ever hear from him?" Dan's voice even sounded strained to his ears. He knew the recidivism in these cases, could almost quote it from memory. The chances of this Josh fellow turning back up were very high indeed.

She looked away. "He called. But, I refused to speak to him. A few letters, but I burned them." No need to tell Dan about the veiled threatening quality of them. He knew. He'd seen it hundreds of times before.

She rarely told the story and surprised herself by telling Dan, of all people. Christine probably guessed at it, since she witnessed her conversation with Liz, but she would have thought Dan would have been the last person she'd tell, no matter how sociable he had been since their conversation in his car. She waited for the words of disbelief that usually followed such a confession.

But, that's not what she got.

He cleared his throat. "If so many of these women had half your gumption and good sense, they'd do the same thing."

Eve half-smiled at him. "You know, I'm glad you didn't go for pity. I hate pity."

He returned her smile. "You sure don't strike me as the type who needs it."

"Damn skippy."

He chuckled as he finished off the coffee, noting the dirty looks the staff was giving them. They wanted to finish up and go home for what remained of the evening.

He didn't know why he was so nervous. It was a line he had uttered many, many times before without a second thought. "Eve, would you like to go out for a drink?"

She sipped from her mug, probably buying time. "Thanks, but it's been a long day," she said carefully.

He shrugged, feigning disinterest, fiddling with the empty coffee mug. "No problem."

She aimed those beautiful browns right on him. "Thank for listening, Dan. It means a lot. Oh, and thanks for the coffee, too." She stood up and squeezed his arm as she walked by, heading towards the door, leaving him to digest everything she had said.

And the way he reacted to it.

Why did he even care one way or the other if she went out with him or not?

Eventually, he shrugged it off. The night was young, by his standards at least, and there should be somebody out there to make him forget what he just heard.

* * *

Eve dumped her files on the small table by the door and flipped on the light. All she wanted was to crawl into something comfortable and curl up underneath the covers.

"Reow?"

Oh, yeah. And feed Moses, the yellow tabby she found as a stray in the trash can out back.

Within five minutes, she was in bed, the quilts pulled up to her chin. Moses jumped onto the bed and started cleaning his fur, an action that was usually soothing to her.

But, instead of sleep coming easy, it didn't. She hadn't thought that much about Josh in a year, and although it wore her out, it wired her, almost as if he would come through the door any second and continue where he left off.

The thought made her shudder, despite the flannel pajamas and the several blankets on her bed.

So, she tried to think about something else.

But, all that came to mind was Assistant DA Dan Fielding.

Sure, she had dated since Josh, but she was extremely leery of any man, more so than before. While Dan had done nothing to her to make her think he was anything but a gentleman, she knew what he was capable of. Not physical violence, of course, but she wasn't a dallying sort of person, and he most certainly was. The age difference didn't bother her, but the womanizing most certainly did.

She didn't want to fall into that trap, and she didn't make it a habit to date co-workers anyway. Too many pitfalls there.

But, it was hard for her to make friends, especially in this foreign place she found herself. She made a promise to herself to get more involved with her coworkers. Maybe go out for a drink or a meal, invite them over on occasion.

Before she drifted off to sleep, she had one thought.

_Maybe I should have taken Dan up on that drink._


	4. Magic Jumping Beans

"OK, folks, recess." Harry banged the gavel once, temporarily ending the session for an hour. Folks straggled from the courtroom.

"So, Eve, what's for lunch?" Roz asked.

Eve was bent over her stenotype, trying to figure out why the paper kept jamming. Although Manhattan was a larger and better funded jurisdiction than her old courthouse in Kentucky, the equipment left much to be desired. "Leftover chicken salad."

"Again?"

Eve made a face, giving up on her crotchety machine. "Good thing I like it, huh?" Although if she ever had enough money, she'd never eat chicken salad again.

Roz eyed her a moment, almost as if she could see through her brain right to the $7.12 balance in her checking account.

Eve tried not to fidget. She hated scrutiny of any kind, although she knew Roz meant no harm.

"See you in the cafeteria, then?"

"Uh . . . right." _That's right, Eve. Make friends. Remember?_

Roz sauntered off, Bull in tow.

Eve returned to her machine, yanking this and twisting that, trying to get the paper un-jammed.

It would probably take her the remainder of the lunch break to get it fixed.

"Damned piece of . . ." She blew a strand of hair out of her face. Good thing she was alone in here, so no one could hear her talking to herself.

"Problems?"

Eve almost jumped out of her skin. "Good grief, Dan! You scared the crap out of me!" She put her hand over her chest to calm her heart.

He looked sheepish. "Sorry. Can I help?"

Eve kicked at the stand. "You aren't mechanically inclined, are you?"

"I can check the air in my tires."

"Doesn't count." Eve sighed. "Oh, well. Maybe it will magically start working again by the time lunch break is over." She was a little skittish of him since she had basically bared her soul to him last night. But, he seemed to be his normal Dan self. So far.

Dan had been watching her all evening, debating on how he was going to make his move. She was different. He couldn't approach her like he had all those other women, and he had to dig deep, trying to remember how exactly it was you courted a woman. Plus, he just couldn't get her off his mind. "About lunch. I was wondering if you wanted to . . . to . . ." He trailed off. She was watching him again with those expectant browns of hers, and he momentarily forgot what he wanted to say.

Eve waited patiently. _Holy crap, I think he's asking me out!_

_That is _not_ a good idea!_

_Is it?_

He cleared his throat. "I know this great place that serves the best deep dish pizza you've ever had, and I was wondering . . ."

"Danny! Oh, _Danny_!" The high-pitched, nasal voice was like fingernails on a chalk board.

_What timing! _Dan put his head in his hands momentarily. "It's Dan, Stephanie. Dan. D. A. N."

She smiled in a simpering way. "You didn't care what I called you last night."

Dan cut his eyes at Eve, and she raised an eyebrow in response.

Stephanie, dressed in the shortest, tightest dress Eve had ever seen, sidled up to Dan, her hands all over him. She didn't even acknowledge Eve's presence. "Just wondered if you wanted to disappear into the broom closet for a little preview of tonight."

Dan disentangled himself from her fingers. "I _told_ you not to come by here!"

"I know, Danny, but I _missed_ you."

"Look, Stephanie, I'm in the middle of something right now . . ."

"I don't see anybody."

"Well, she's right here . . .?" Dan looked around the empty courtroom.

But, Stephanie was right. She was gone.

* * *

Eve slunk into the cafeteria, wishing like hell she hadn't promised Roz she'd eat with them.

She felt like an idiot for getting her hopes up, even momentarily.

What in the world was she _thinking_? She'd probably wind up fending off his advances all night, anyway.

Honestly, she wouldn't have accepted his offer, anyway. Too much room for error. Plus, there had to be some sort of rule about co-workers consorting with each other.

Although it hadn't stopped Christine and Harry.

How could he go from Stephanie the Streetwalker last night to having a decent dinner with her tonight, anyway?

Lunch, commonly known as dinner to most folks this time of night, was in full-swing. Harry was showing the gang a new magic trick when Eve found an empty chair next to Roz. They were so engrossed in what he was doing that for a moment, she thought no one would notice she was there.

And that was just fine with her.

But, not such luck, Roz stared at her for a moment. "What did he do to you?"

Eve's eye's widened just a bit, but she tried to dig into her chicken salad with gusto. "What are you talking about?"

Bull turned around. "Who did what to you? I'll throw him off the courthouse if you want me to."

"No! That's . . . not necessary, Bull. No one did anything to me." She shot Roz a glance telling her to back off.

Roz didn't take the bait. "He's been waiting to get you alone all night. I can tell. Watching you like he was. Running after you last night." Her eyes narrowed. "You didn't sleep with him, did you?"

"I didn't know you had a boyfriend," Christine's attention was drawn towards the conversation.

"A boyfriend? Bring him around sometime. Got to have our approval, you know," Harry took a sip from his coffee mug.

Eve put her head in her hands. "There is _no_ boyfriend. There is _nothing_ wrong." She shot Roz another glare. "And, I did _not_ sleep with him!"

"Who?" Mac asked.

Roz pursed her lips. "Dan."

Mac choked. "_Dan_? _Our_ Dan? Has he been bothering you, Eve? Because, I swear, if he has been . . ."

"Look, folks! Dan is _not_ bothering me." _At least, not in the way you think. _"Right now, all of _you_ are bothering me! So, drop it, okay?"

Looking dubious, they dropped it.

Eve mentally sighed, glad that the scrutiny was over.

Did she mention she hated scrutiny?

The rest of the lunch break went by quietly, and Eve remembered her earlier promise and made sure she joined in the conversation.

And, she tried not to think on Dan being holed up in the broom closet with Stephanie of the Giant Jugs.

As they were leaving the cafeteria, Dan marched around the corner, looking more harried than usual. When his gaze lit on Eve, he actually looked relieved. "Oh my God, Eve, I've been looking for you _everywhere_!"

Eve steeled herself. "I was in the cafeteria with everyone else. Didn't try hard enough, apparently."

"You were?" he looked momentarily taken aback.

For some reason, she knew what he meant. And, it stung. "Yes, I have friends, Dan. Even dull, little old me."

He noticed Roz watching disapprovingly and guided her around the corner. "That's _not_ what I meant!" he hissed.

Eve leaned against the wall, arms crossed. She hoped she looked disinterested. "Did you have _fun_ at lunch?"

He ran a hand through his hair as he propped his shoulder on the wall next to her. "I was looking for you the whole hour!"

Eve was confused, especially since part of her brain was temporarily busy with trying not to notice how close he was. "I thought you would be in the broom closet with . . ."

Dan put his hand over her mouth. "Would you just shut up for a minute? Just one blessed _minute_?"

Eve shook his hand away from her. "Fine. What do you want?"

The first response that popped into Dan's head about what he wanted was something a little on the dirty side. He couldn't help himself. It was how he was wired.

But, he kept it to himself, instead, shaking his head slightly. "I wanted to apologize for the interruption earlier."

"Well, your 'interruption' surely wasn't an 'interruption' last night." She didn't know why she was angry. She had no right to _be_ angry!

Dan looked exasperated. "Just forget her for a minute! I wanted to see if you'd have lunch with me. I know last night . . . was sort of awkward . . . for both of us, but I wanted you to know that . . . that it doesn't . . ." What in the hell did he really want her to know, anyway?

Even he couldn't answer that question.

Eve saved him the trouble. "Dan, I really do appreciate you taking the time to listen to me. I think you're not the bad guy everyone always tries to make you out to be. Or you make yourself out to be."

Dan didn't know if he should be offended or not. Instead, he forged right ahead. "How about lunch tomorrow?"

Eve blew out a breath. "No, Dan. Thanks for asking, but no." She gestured down the hall where Stephanie was giving them a dirty look. "I'm not a one-night stand, bootie call, hook-up kind of girl." Eve wasn't trying to hurt his feelings, but Dan looked hurt.

"You won't even go out to lunch with me . . . as friends?" He was grasping at straws, and he knew it.

What he should have said was he enjoyed talking to her, and it had been a really long time since he'd allowed himself the luxury of enjoying someone's company such as it was.

But, he didn't quite know how to word it.

She tried to keep it on the light side. "I have a feeling all your other women 'friends' would bombard us all night long with 'Danny, why haven't you called?' and 'Danny, let's go out sometime.'" She couldn't help but laugh at the stricken look on his face. "See? I told you so!"

Dan stood up straight, adjusting his coat, keeping his hands busy while he tried to hide the sting of her rejection.

Eve's laughter died when she noticed exactly what he was doing. Hiding his true self. Again. She sighed. "See you around, Counselor." She made her way back to the courtroom.

Dan watched her go. When she entered the courtroom, he cursed aloud, ignoring the strange looks from a bag lady sitting by the drinking fountain.

Boy, he'd screwed that up big time!

And it bothered him that he even cared.

* * *

"OK, party hats?" Eve asked, clipboard in hand.

"Check," Bull answered.

Eve made a note on her clipboard. "Cake?"

"Roz'll pick it up tomorrow night."

"Appetizers? Drinks?"

Bull nosed around in the big pile hidden in a supply room. "Double check."

"Magic jumping beans?"

Bull actually started looking for a moment, then paused, giving her a funny look. "Uhh . . . ."

"Just joking, Bull."

"Oh."

"You did a good job."

He brightened. "Thanks. But, you organized it all. Harry'll be surprised, for sure."

"He better be, after all the work we've put into it."

Eve found herself heading up the 'committee' to surprise Harry for his birthday, and she didn't mind. She loved to plan anything, plus it made her feel good just to be included in their little group. She'd been doing more of that lately, and it made her feel better about the choice she had made to move here. She, Roz and Christine had gone out for drinks several times, Mac and Harry joining them on occasion.

But, not Dan, although he had been rather congenial since their conversation about her past. And in the hallway. Too busy with his social calendar, Eve assumed, then wondered why it even mattered to her. It sure didn't bother anyone else.

After stealthily making sure no one was in the hallway, she and Bull snuck from the room.

They were snickering like two children when Dan strolled down the hallway, spotting them. "Hey! How'd you get in there?"

Bull locked the door and pocketed the key. "Art. He said it would be a good place to store . . ." Bull's eyes darted both ways, making sure no one was eavesdropping, "the party supplies," he finished with a hiss.

Dan rocked back on his heels. "No wonder I haven't been able to use it lately. I thought Art wanted to use it for _actual_ cleaning supplies. But, why would a handy man do that?" he finished sarcastically.

"Especially Art," Eve muttered. 'Handyman' was definitely a loose term for the courthouse janitor.

Bull looked confused. "What did you use the room for, Dan?"

Dan gave him a wicked smile. "It's more like what _didn't_ I use it for."

Eve shook her head. "You can be so disgusting, you know?"

Dan shrugged. "Thanks."

Bull just looked more confused.

Dan offered Eve his arm, but she hesitated. He rolled his eyes. "Bull's got the only key, so you're safe."

She gave him a dirty look. "I know you're not going to do anything . . . like that to me, it's just . . ." Honestly, she didn't want to tell him that she had become so comfortable with him that it was a little discerning. Ever since their conversation in the hallway, he had actually kept approaching her, usually asking her opinion on something or other, sometimes a case, sometimes just to chat. Eve figured she'd seen the last of Dan Fielding, but apparently, she was wrong.

Plus, she was not just an easy lay. And that's all he ever seemed to want.

And, maybe she was imagining it all anyway. But, each time he approached her, almost shyly, it seemed, she didn't think it was all in her head.

She decided to go with what they did best. Swap caustic comments. "I was just wondering where that arm's been."

"More places than you'll ever know, Eviegirl."

"I imagine so." But, she linked her arm with his anyway, allowing herself to be escorted down the hallway.

He flexed his upper arm. "Aren't you supposed to say something along the lines of 'Oooo, Dan, have you been working out?'"

"I'm not that ditzy blonde you've been seeing. Plus, you're an attorney. The only workouts you get are lifting law books off your shelves."

"You're forgetting the other kind of workout that the ditzy blonde you referred to is quite good at."

"I figure that's all she's good for." Eve tossed her hair over her shoulder as they walked.

He smiled. "Just about."

They walked into the courtroom arm-in-arm. "M'lady, your stenotype awaits." Dan gave her an exaggerated bow, which Eve returned.

"Thank you, Sir Fielding. Your courtesy has been much appreciated."

He gave her one of those smiles that she had rarely seen, the honest one that actually reached his eyes. And made her heart flip-flop.

_Damn it._

Eve busied herself with getting ready for the session to keep from thinking about it. She was so engrossed that Roz startled her when she came up from behind. "You have a visitor."

Eve jumped. She really ought to get a grip. "Good grief, Roz, you scared me to death!"

Roz crossed her arms over her chest. "I have that affect on people sometimes." She motioned out the door. "He's in Harry's office."

"'Kay. Hey, you ready for the party?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Roz replied, without cracking a smile. But, Eve knew better. Roz liked to party with the best of them.

She was so busy thinking about other preparations before tomorrow night that when she opened the door to Harry's office and caught sight of her 'visitor,' all the blood drained from her face.

He was leaned casually on Harry's desk, almost as if it were his own office, a small bouquet of flowers in his hands.

_He always bought me flowers after he beat me._

He gave her that smile that used to make her blood run faster, but now she saw it for what it was . . . predatory.

She wanted to scream 'how did you find me?' Then, she wanted to run back to the courtroom. He couldn't hit her there.

However, in her fear, her body refused to respond. All she could manage, in a whisper was his name.


	5. She Had Great Taste in Men

"All rise. Manhattan Criminal Court, Part Two is now in session, the Honorable Judge Harold T. Stone presiding." Bull could say it in his sleep. Sometimes he did.

Harry strolled to his chair. "How goes it, guys and gals?"

"It'll be just fine if Quon Lee would stop shopping all the time," Mack muttered under his breath, practically buried in piles of old receipts.

"Tax time got you down, Mack?" Harry asked.

"Tax time. Bill time. Lunch time, you name it, it costs money."

"Maybe you ought to ask the city for a raise."  
Mack snorted at the very idea.

Dan and Christine approached the bench.

Someone cleared their throat from nearby, catching Harry's attention. "What is it, Roz?"

She motioned towards the empty stenographer's chair.

"Well, I'll be. Ms. Cantrell has never been late before."

"She had a visitor. I sent him to your office," Roz answered.

Dan narrowed his eyes at the mention of 'him,' an action Harry didn't fail to notice. He'd seen the way his prosecutor had been acting around the new court reporter. Almost like a lovesick puppy, although Eve didn't seem to pay him any attention. He leaned back in his chair. "How long they been in there, Roz?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. Five, ten minutes."

"Time enough to . . . you know, don't you think, Dan?"

Dan rolled his eyes, although the thought hadn't escaped him, either. It was on the tip of his tongue to say if she were the type, he would have been the first to try, but warning bells went off in his head that Harry had caught his reaction "Don't know and don't care," he managed with a shrug. _There. That'll show him_.

"So, who is this mystery guest, Roz? Any clues? Tall, dark and handsome? Or short, plain and dumpy?"

Roz looked exasperated. "Just a normal regular guy. With flowers."

Dan clinched the file in his hand, but thankfully, no one noticed. _Flowers! Why didn't I think of flowers?_

"Oh yeah, he said his name was Josh something-or-other."

Dan immediately dropped the file, scattering paper across the floor. If he wasn't slightly intimidated by Roz, he probably would have grabbed her arms and shook her to get more information. But, he had to look aloof. Stay back from the situation, especially now that all eyes were on him. Probably wasn't the same Josh anyway.

And why was it any of his concern?

As calmly as he could manage, he bent over to pick up the paperwork. "Did you say Josh?"

She shrugged. "Yeah. Had an accent. Like Eve's."

_Oh, shit._

"And you _left_ her in there _alone_ with him?" he asked incredulously. Tossing the paperwork carelessly on his desk, he rushed from the courtroom without an explanation.

* * *

"Aren't you glad to see me, Evie?"

Eve swallowed hard, judging the distance between them. She was standing just inside the closed door, and he was still leaning on Harry's desk like he owned the place. She noted there were plenty of items she could use as weapons, too. If it came to that. But, he wouldn't dare.

Would he?

She cleared her throat, mentally chiding herself. _Don't let him see you scared._

"Not really," she said offhandedly. "And it's Eve, not Evie."

"So grown a little backbone since I last saw you, haven't you?" his words were said in a teasing tone, but his eyes were full of derision.

Eve returning his glare and didn't answer. There wasn't anything she could say that wouldn't make him less hateful. She only crossed her arms across her chest protectively, hoping he couldn't see her trembling from there.

He held out his arms, his left hand still holding the bouquet of flowers. The spray of roses would have been beautiful if it had come from anyone else. "Don't I deserve a hug?"

_You deserve to rot in hell._

Eve was as frosty as she could manage, which was easy, considered their history. Plus, it hid her terror. "I think you understand how our . . . relationship ended and realized I did not want to see you again. _Ever_. Plus, aren't you violating the restraining order?"

He shrugged carelessly, putting his arms down at his sides. "It's been over two years. Time to make a new start. Don't you think?"

"Why?" she blurted out without thinking. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

He shrugged. "Why not? We had some fun before you went and ruined it."

His words sent chills down her spine, but she didn't have time to reply. He moved towards her so swiftly, her first reaction was to put something between the two of them. She moved behind the leather couch, mentally kicking herself for not turning around, opening the door and running into the hallway.

But, she did not want to turn her back on this man.

"You stay right there, Joshua Hardy. Don't you come any closer." Her voice was calmer than she thought it should be. Inside, she was screaming.

He stopped on the other side of the couch. "Since when do you get to make the decisions?" His voice was mocking. "As far as I can tell, we can pick up where we left off."

"Not on your life," Eve spat. Now that she wasn't as naïve, she realized that Josh equated fear with power, and all he saw in her was fear. And that gave him power. Sure, it was a fear she wished she could control, but it was still there. How could she not be terrified of this man who beat her at will?

He narrowed his eyes. "I always knew you had some spunk in you, but now, it finally gets interesting."

Josh lunged towards her, and she reached blindly behind her on Harry's shelf. A stuffed armadillo would make a fine weapon, at least long enough to get her out of there . . .

"I'd stop right there if I were you."

Josh stopped.

"Dan." There was probably more than relief in the way she said his name, but she didn't care. She was so caught up in this situation, she didn't even notice he had entered the room.

Dan allowed himself one brief glance at her to make sure she was really unharmed. Then, he crossed his arms across his chest, pulling himself up to maximum height, which was several inches taller than Josh. "Aren't you violating some sort of restraining order there, Mr. Hardy?"

Josh rocked back on his heels, assessing the situation. Although not well-educated, he wasn't stupid. He saw the way they looked at each other. "It's only good in Kentucky, old man."

Dan gave Josh a cocky look. He really did look like the punk he pictured him to be. "Wanna bet? I'd love to haul your skinny ass into this court and find out."

All Eve could do was grip the back of the couch and will her shaky knees to hold her upright.

Josh took stock of the situation. "I don't think it's any of your business."

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong. Breaking the law _is_ my business. And I have some old cases rotting in jail that would just _love_ to see you come into their cell."

Josh colored in anger at Dan's suggestion. "I don't know what kind of claim you have here, but you can't kick me out of this office!"

"No, but I can," Harry walked up behind Dan. "What's going on?"

Josh's eyes widened slightly at the sight of the judge's robe. "I was just having a conversation with Eve here, and this man," he made a crude motion towards Dan, "took it upon himself to interrupt us."

Dan just looked daggers at him.

Harry looked at Eve. "Is he bothering you?"

All Eve could do was nod.

Josh could tell he was outnumbered. He held out the flowers to Eve, but she refused to take them. So, he shrugged and started to leave the office, tossing them in the wastebasket near the door.

Where he ran right into Bull.

Dan enjoyed Josh's discomfort. "Oh, Joshua? Have you met our bailiff? He's rather protective of our Eviegirl, aren't you, Bull?"

Bull gave Josh a maniacal grin in response.

Dan was delighted to see Josh actually look nervous.

"Do you want me to pound him, Dan?" Bull glared down at his prey.

Eve was on the verge of saying yes.

Dan was, too.

"Just let him go, Bull," Harry answered.

Reluctantly, Bull stepped aside, and Josh made a hasty retreat past the questioning glances of Mac, Roz and Christine.

Eve knew her legs couldn't hold her up much longer, so she made her way to the front of the couch and collapsed, putting her head in her hands.

"I've always been afraid he would show up, but I was beginning to think he was really gone for good," she whispered to no one in particular.

For a moment, Dan forgot anyone else was there. He sat next to her, not touching her. But, he wanted to, especially after he saw her trembling.

"Are you OK?" he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her shoulder familiarly. He had never noticed before, but she smelt wonderful, like sunny days and country mornings. How she managed to bring a little bit of Kentucky with her to New York, he didn't know. But, he liked it.

He offered her his handkerchief, but she pushed it aside. When she dropped her hands in her lap, her eyes were dry. "I've wasted enough tears on that . . . that man."

"See. I told you that you were brave."

Harry and Christine exchanged glances.

"What's going on here?" Harry asked.

Dan jumped. He had forgotten about everyone else. Nonchalantly, he stood up, but his own knees were shaking just a bit. He hoped no one noticed. "Just a cretin from Eve's past. Apparently, she had great taste in men," he added caustically. No need to get Harry's radar up and running again.

Eve glared at him for a moment, and he wished he could take that last comment back.

"You need a minute, Eve?" Harry questioned.

She stood hesitantly. "No. I'm fine. Let's get on with this."

But, to Dan she still looked vulnerable. And scared. And he fought the urge to pull her to him and hold her. To tell her everything would be just fine.

He also fought the inclination to go out in the parking lot and beat the crap out of Joshua Hardy.

Everyone started filing out. Harry touched her shoulder when she walked by. "If you want to talk about it . . ."

Eve shook her head. "It's fine, Harry." Although it really wasn't.

"If she wants to talk about it, she'll talk to me," Dan muttered.

The only one who heard was Roz, and she filed it away in her mind. That morsel of information might come in handy someday.

* * *

Eve almost let Dan drive her home. Almost. But, she didn't want to be scared. It had been a long time since Josh had that power over her, and she didn't like it one bit.

Plus, his comment about her taste in men was highly unnecessary, although it was a classic Dan Fielding comment, to be sure.

The night's session helped take her mind off all of it, the usual ebb and flow in the courtroom soothing to her frazzled nerves. Christine and Mac questioned her about Josh again, and she told her story. Actually, she told it more times tonight than she ever had, and it had the usual effect: dismay, shock, concern. They treated her differently, too, almost as if she might break. She knew they all meant well, but she wanted to be treated the same as before they knew she had made a fool of herself.

But, only Dan treated her as usual, just as nothing was amiss, flippantly asking her if she needed a ride home, which she politely refused. It was one of the things she liked about him as a friend – he never seemed to be ruffled by the things that affected everyone else.

At least, she guessed he was a friend. But, he could be treating her that way because of indifference.

Although he sure didn't look indifferent when he barged into Harry's office.

Eve found him hard to read at times. Dan was well-versed in hiding from everyone, and he only showed people what he wanted them to see.

She wondered if underneath all the lies and deception, if _he_ even knew who he was!

Her thoughts drifted back to Josh, and she shuddered at the thought of him being in the same state as her, let alone the same city, and she quickened her step. Only a few blocks to go.

* * *

"Danny, why are we driving so slow?" Teresa whined.

Dan grit his teeth. "It's a new law, honey. If you don't have more than three people in the car, you have to go below 20 miles per hour in the left lane."

Good thing Teresa wasn't bright.

She chewed on her gum, smacking loudly and shrugged. Traffic was slim, so only an occasional car flew by, honking, the driver cursing.

But, he had to make sure Eve got home safe. He could just see her up ahead on the sidewalk, walking purposefully towards home. She would sometimes glance around apprehensively, and he wondered if she would recognize his car. But, she didn't seem to.

She wouldn't accept a ride, and he really didn't blame her. Not only was Teresa's clothing downright scandalous, but her perfume was enough to choke a person. He rolled down his window a bit to get some fresh air.

It didn't escape him that he had grown tired of Teresa. It didn't take long. Sometimes a day or sometimes a week before he tossed them aside. Only a few women had he kept around long enough to truly get to know him.

It also didn't escape him that Eve was beginning to fall in the latter category, although she didn't realize it. And, honestly, he didn't want to admit it. It had been so long since he'd had a real relationship with a woman that he didn't know if he could even pull it off.

And, he didn't know if he wanted to open himself up to those emotions, either. Way too damn easy to get hurt that way.

He took a deep breath when Eve made it to her apartment, punched in her code and entered her apartment building.

He put his foot on the gas pedal. "Where to, Teresa dear?"

She was putting on some lipstick. Or more like _a lot_ of lipstick. "It doesn't matter, Danny. Why don't we just go back to your place?"

For some reason, Dan wasn't up for that tonight. But, he couldn't think of a way out of it. "Sure."

"Oh, and Danny? Aren't you breaking the law? You're driving faster now." She seemed pleased with herself.

"That law is only good between 10 a.m. and midnight. See, it's 12:02?"

Teresa smiled at him a little dumbly. "You're so smart, Danny."

He thought of Eve scurrying along the sidewalk, frightened of a man who controlled her past.

_If I'm so smart, how come I'm letting her get away?_

He ground his teeth in frustration. "It's _Dan_, Teresa. Dan."

* * *

Eve was so relieved when the front door of her building shut behind her that she almost leaned against it for a moment. There was a small chance he was in the well-lit, but shabby hallways, but most of the people in the building were just as wary as she was. New Yorkers were mostly a suspicious bunch.

She rode the elevator up to the sixth floor in a better mood. But, when the doors opened, she saw that the light was out at the end of the hall right where her doorway was.

"Gotta call the super in the morning," she mumbled as she hunted for her keys in her purse. Vaguely, she could hear the sounds of a game show from one of the elderly tenants, Mr. Adams, who was about as deaf as he was blind. A baby was crying from another apartment, and Eve wondered if she had a new neighbor. She didn't remember anyone with a baby on the sixth floor.

She was so engrossed that she didn't see the shadow move from the darkened end of the hallway.

Something connected with her cheek, and she fell backwards with a grunt, stars floating in her vision.

She hadn't seen Josh, but she knew it was him.

Immediately, she knew she had to fight back. Out of desperation, she kicked with her left foot, and it connected with something. He yelped in pain, but grabbed for her.

She scrambled away, but wasn't fast enough.

Snatching a handful of hair, he hauled her to her feet. She smelt the animal smell of him and almost retched as he held her roughly against him.

"Give me that key, so we can continue this in private," he hissed in her ear, her head twisted at a fitful angle.

She opened her mouth to scream, but he immediately produced a knife, which he pressed to her neck.

She shut her mouth. If he hadn't been clutching her, she might have sunk to the floor.

This was just like when they were dating. The power he had over her. His ability to make her cower each time his fist attacked her. The helplessness . . .only this was worse. Much worse.

_No, Eve. Fight. You're brave, remember? _

Her hand was still in her purse, clutched around her keychain. But, there was something else in there, too. She just hoped she could use it and avoid getting cut at the same time.

_If you don't, he's going to kill you anyway._

Quickly, she yanked out the can of mace and sprayed it in his face, trying to twist away from the knife winking at her neck.

Josh immediately yelped and dropped it, putting both hands to his face. "You bitch!" he yelled.

Eve turned to run, adrenaline pumping. But, she ran straight into a young woman holding a sniffling baby.

"What . . ." The woman apparently had just walked out her door, but one look at the bruise already forming on Eve's face told her all she needed to know.

She pushed Eve inside her apartment and slammed the door, locking the deadbolt. With one arm jiggling the whimpering baby, she picked up the phone and dialed 911 with the other.

Eve vaguely remembered the woman, whose name she learned was Lynette, putting a cold compress on her cheek. Dazed, she wondered why, completely forgetting in her fear and flight that he had hit her. But, when the coldness hit her broken skin, she remembered. She wasn't able to hold back the tears of relief.

Lynette managed to console her, as well as the baby on her hip.

"I'm . . . s-sorry . . ." Eve tried to say, but Lynette shushed her.

"I'm just glad I came out the door when I did. Thank goodness little Billy here couldn't sleep, or I'd. . ." She didn't finish the thought, but Eve knew.

Or she might have been dead.

The police came and took her statement. But, Josh was gone, although he had left the knife. They offered to take her to the hospital, but she declined. She hadn't looked in the mirror, but could feel her face swelling. Lynette, who was attending nursing school, said nothing appeared to be broken, but told her she still might want to go.

Still, Eve refused. She wanted to get back into her relatively safe apartment and lock out the world.

Mr. Adams, aroused from his game show by the ruckus, was questioned by the police. He admitted to letting a man in the building only an hour before the attack.

"But, he said he was her brother. And he looked like such a nice man." He wrung his hands in disbelief. Eve didn't have the energy to console him.

She just wanted to be sick. She was tired of being scared and tired of worrying. But, Josh was still out there, somewhere. And that made her want to hide underneath her bed until the cows came home. She hadn't exactly taken this job in New York to hide from him, but it was always under her conscious that he was less likely to show up here than back home.

_Shows what I know._

When she finally struggled into bed during the wee hours of the morning, her battered cheek lying on an ice pack, she wondered if she would ever be rid of that man.


	6. Meals on Wheels

"She must have been pretty sick to miss the party," Harry said, balancing a tray of sandwiches in his hands. "What did Roz say?"

Christine shrugged. "Something about a cold. She didn't want to give it to everybody." She absently ate a chip out of the bowl in her hand.

"Well, the least we can do is take her some of this food after she worked so hard. Thanks for helping us find her place, Dan."

Dan shrugged, holding a box containing what was left of the cake. "No problem." He didn't tell him the real reason he wanted to go, mainly because he wouldn't even admit it to himself.

He was worried about her since Josh had shown up yesterday.

But, Dan Fielding was only supposed to worry about himself. So, he kept his trap shut.

* * *

Eve jumped when she heard the buzz at her front door. At first, she wanted whoever it was to just go away, so she sat very still, her book forgotten in her hands. But, when they buzzed again, she began to worry.

_What if it's Josh?_

Although it was irrational, she was terrified. He couldn't get through her double deadbolt locked door, not to mention the locked door into the lobby, so there was no need to be scared.

Unless Mr. Adams decided to let someone in again.

But, she hadn't left the safety of her apartment all day, although she knew she would have to eventually.

Just to make herself feel better, she went to the door and picked up a lamp, a very useful weapon. "Who is it?" she asked in a shaky voice, pressing the button.

"It's Meals on Wheels, and we've brought you some party food," Harry said cheerfully.

_Crap. Crap, crap, crap._

She put the lamp down, searching for a reason for them not to come in. Remembering she was supposed to be sick, she coughed a bit. "Just leave it outside. I think I have the flu or something."

"Maybe we should just leave," Dan said, backing away from the door.

Christine gave him a dirty look. "After all you do with those women, you're afraid of one little bitty cold germ." She turned back towards the door. "C'mon, Eve. We'll just put the food in the kitchen and leave. We promise."

Eve was trapped. She had to let them in, but she wanted to hide her bruise from them just long enough for it to heal enough that make-up would cover it. Quickly, she turned off every light, but the one in the kitchen after she buzzed them up. It shown weakly in the room.

"OK, but don't stay long. I don't want any of you to get sick." _Or know what an idiot I am._

She pulled her robe tighter about her waist and unlocked the door, although all she had on underneath was shorts and an old T-shirt. She knew Josh wasn't on the other side, she still hesitated over the last bolt before turning it upright.

She cleared her throat and opened it, making sure her cheek was turned away from them and covered as much as possible by her hair. She also made sure she stood away from the light – now repaired – that streamed in from the hallway.

Eve knew she looked sick. She felt sick, that's for sure. "Hey . . ."

Her gaze faltered when she saw Dan's serious gaze searching her own, but she opened the door wider, making sure to stay in the shadows.

The trio walked inside. "It was a great party, Eve! I was even surprised. Wasn't I, Christine?"

"He sure was."

They chattered past her on their way to the kitchen, arms full of food. She was glad she told them she was contagious, so they'd keep their distance.

Only Dan paused a moment in the darkened room. He was looking at her, but she refused to meet his gaze. They stood awkwardly for a moment.

"Hey, Eve! Where do you want these sandwiches?" Harry called from her small kitchen.

"Just put them on the counter," Eve answered, turning towards Harry's voice.

When she heard Dan's sharp intake of air, she knew she'd made a mistake.

Dan immediately sat the cake box on a side table and reached for the light switch.

"Don't . . ." Eve started to protest. But, when he flipped it on, all she could do was flinch at the brightness. She knew what she looked like. All the make-up she owned couldn't cover it. She had tried.

Lord knows, she had tried.

She wouldn't look in his eyes. She couldn't. As much counseling as she received, she still felt it was all somehow all her fault. She wrapped her arms around herself, ashamed that her weakness was so obvious.

"What happened?" he finally asked, his voice husky.

She told him everything. Without hesitation.

When she mentioned the knife, she saw his hands clench.

He just stood several feet from her, not touching her, commenting or anything.

Neither one of them noticed that the chatter from the kitchen had faded away.

* * *

Harry saw Eve's bruised face when she turned in their direction.

The look on his face must have been shocking because Christine immediately stopped chattering. She looked at Harry closely.

"What?" When he didn't answer, she followed his gaze.

At first, all she saw was Dan and Eve having a serious conversation. But, Eve turned her head again, and Christine saw it.

"Good Lord," she muttered, starting to leave the kitchen.

Harry grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "No. Let her tell him first."

Christine gave Harry a funny look. "Why? I just don't see him being sensitive about this, Harry. This is _Dan_!"

Harry motioned outside the kitchen again. "Just wait."

* * *

Eve managed to get through her story without any big show of emotions. She had already told it twelve times to the cops, it seemed, and once to her grandmother.

She thought about not telling Gran, but if something happened to her, she wanted her to know it was Josh.

Sobering thought, but that's the only kind she'd had since the attack.

* * *

He couldn't take his eyes off her face. Her beautiful skin was now bruised, a multi-colored blemish covering most of her cheek. And her eyes. As much as she tried to sound unaffected, he could see the apprehension deep inside of them.

_If I can find that sorry excuse for a . . ._

Not one to ultimately care about others to that extreme, the anger surged through his body like a fire, surprising him. He tried to control it with gruff questions.

"Do you have any idea where he's staying?"

She shook her ahead.

"Have the police found anything?"

Another no.

"Did he leave you any clues about his whereabouts?"

Eve pointed to a matchbook laid on the table. "That was in the hallway where he . . . where we were, but it could have been dropped by anyone. The police weren't too worried about it."

He didn't even glance at it. He had one more question to ask.

"Why didn't you tell . . . us?" 'Us' was a safer word than 'me'.

Eve opened her mouth to answer, then shut it without answering, automatically pulling her robe tighter about herself.

If Dan were acting as he normally would, he would have made a suggestive comment about her standing there in her robe. But, he didn't even think about it. Not with her in so much pain.

She looked him in the eyes, deciding on her answer. "The same traits that angered me so much about Liz, I'm doing myself." She gave a half-hearted chuckle as a tear streaked down her face.

That tear was about all he could handle. Ignoring all warning signals, he closed the distance between them.

Eve looked startled, but he didn't care. He put his hands gently against her hair and raised her head until he could look into her eyes. Softly, he brushed his finger over the bruise. She didn't protest. Just looked at him with those big browns of hers.

"The only person to blame for this is Josh. Don't even waste another minute thinking it." His voice was hoarse with emotion.

Her eyes welled again, but she refused to keep crying. More than anything in the world, she wanted to bury her head in his chest, let him wrap his arms around her just to feel safe, if only for a little while.

And that's all it would be. Just for a little while. Dan didn't know anything about relationships, anyway. And she wasn't his type. Hell, he wasn't _her_ type!

As he stroked her face, she almost, for a moment, thought it would be worth it.

* * *

Christine's mouth fell open. "I don't believe it. I just don't believe it! He's actually . . . emphasizing. Or whatever."

"I think he's doing a little more than emphasizing. I think he actually cares."

"Dan? C'mon, Harry . . ." She stole another glance as Dan stroked Eve's face gently. "Well, I'll be danged. Maybe so."

"Let's check it out. I've _got _to know what happened."

* * *

When Harry cleared his throat, Dan reluctantly backed away. Part of his brain was still functioning enough to warn him that he had gotten too close, physically and emotionally. So, he let her go.

And found that he didn't want to.

Instead of focusing on that bizarre emotion, he honed in on his anger at Josh. Although it was also a foreign feeling for him – normally, this would have fallen under the 'Not His Business' category- it was one he relished.

Dan even found himself feeling a little jealous when Harry walked to Eve's side and hugged her close. That was something he couldn't even bring himself to do. And he wanted to. Badly.

"Are you going to be OK?" Harry asked Eve. "Do you need someone to stay with you?"

"I'll be alright. I don't have to be back at work until Monday, so I'll just hang out here."

"Maybe the police will find him before then," Harry commented, although he sounded a little doubtful himself.

"You just let us know if you need anything," Christine added. "We're all your friends, and we want to help you."

Eve felt tears come to her eyes again. "Thanks. That means a lot."

Dan's voice broke the silence. "Look, guys. If you don't need me, I have to get going."

Eve noted he was back to his usual standoffish self. And she was disappointed. She didn't know what exactly she was expecting from the man – or herself.

But, what did she know? She thought she was in love with an abuser at one time, for goodness sakes!

So, all she did was nod.

"We'll see you Monday, right?" he asked her, his eyes guarded.

"I'll be there."

He gave her a tight smile before turning to leave.

Christine and Harry started asking questions, so she told the story again.

None of them noticed Dan put his hand over the matchbook and slip it into his coat pocket as he walked out the door.

* * *

Dan wasn't quite sure _what_ he was doing. Or even _why_ he was doing it.

Almost as if he were in a trance, he found himself standing in front of a rattletrap of a bar, comparing the name to the name on the matchbook. It was a biker-type place, somewhere he would never be caught dead in on a normal night.

But, that part of his mind was temporarily out-to-lunch.

As if Josh would actually be here! Ha!

But maybe, just maybe, he could get some information. Find out where he's staying.

He was the only well-dressed patron in the place, his dark, three-piece suit most definitely out of place. But, the few people in the darkened, musty interior didn't pay him much mind after giving him the once-over.

After all, this was New York. The melting pot of the country.

He went to the bar and ordered a drink. The bartender seemed a little more interested in his presence than the customers, but he kept his comments to himself as he placed the tumbler full of scotch on a napkin in front of him.

Dan took a sip, looking up into the mirror behind the bartender, not exactly sure how he should broach the subject.

That's when he saw him. Looks like he didn't have the question anyone after all.

Josh was playing pool with a rather large, muscular fellow dressed in leather near the back. Josh slapped the guy on the back, and the guy looked like he was barely tolerating Josh's presence.

Surprisingly enough, Dan was calm, although the entire ride to the bar, he was scheming ways to tear Josh's balls off and cram them down his throat. He sipped his drink, all the time watching the creep play pool, waiting. On what, he didn't know. But, he hoped he realized it for what it was when it happened.

Josh had apparently been there awhile, and his pool-playing left much to be desired the drunker her got.

Dan hoped the biker guy was fleecing him for what little he was worth.

"That guy's a newcomer, too. You know him?" the bartender asked.

Dan tried to look disinterested. "Nope. Never seen him before."

The bartender moved in closer. "He's been here all evening, bragging about beating some chick up."

"You don't say." Dan tried to keep his voice disinterested.

The bartender shook his head. "I don't cotton to hittin' women myself, and ol' Brutus back there is putting up with more of it than I would have."

Dan didn't answer, hoping the bartender would leave him alone and go back to whatever bartenders in this kind of place do.

If he was in his right mind, he would have cringed at the thought that he could be identified now that the bartender had struck up a conversation.

_Maybe I am in my right mind_. Dan honed in on that thought.

He had never been surer of anything in his life.

Finally, Josh tossed his pool cue on the table, laughing uproariously. Brutus didn't look too thrilled.

Dan gave him a minute to walk down the dark hallway to the restroom before he followed.

Calmly, he picked up the pool cue Josh had just dropped, ignoring questioning glances from the leather-clad Brutus.

It was easier than he thought it would be.

Josh was just finishing up in the squalid little bathroom when Dan caught him on the back of the head full force with the pool stick. It snapped in half, and he tossed it aside as Josh yelped and fell forward.

Dan didn't waste any time. He had hours to be livid, to stew on his anger. He picked up the sorry excuse for a human being and threw him against the wall.

"What are you doing, man?" Josh pled, his reflexes dulled by too much liquor.

But, Dan ignored him. When he the first punch connected with his face, it was more than satisfying. It was a downright religious experience.

Josh tried to defend himself, but Dan was too angry to notice. He punched him again, then grabbed his collar, pulling him up to his height, getting right up in his battered face.

"If you touch her again, I'll hunt you down like the sorry excuse for an animal you are. And, when I find you - I'll kill you. Understand?"

The flicker of fear on Josh's face was extremely gratifying, almost as good as kicking the crap out of him.

Dan dropped him unceremoniously, and he fell into a bloody heap on the floor.

When Dan glanced at himself in the bathroom mirror, he almost didn't recognize himself. It was a little discerning to be staring at a reflection he saw all the time, and see for himself what rage can do to a man. To top it all off, when Josh's nose starting spurting blood, some of it had gotten on his shirt and coat. He brushed at it distastefully before picking up the broken pool stick and exiting the bathroom. He tossed it on the pool table, once again ignoring the questioning glances from good ol' Brutus.

He tossed a few twenties on the bar. "For the mess."

The bartender gathered them up as he left.

Brutus sidled up to the bar. "Hey, Joe. You think we should go in there and check on that guy?"

Joe shrugged. "Didn't much like him, anyway. Whatever that man did, that Josh fellow deserved it, that's for sure."

Brutus scratched the side of his face. "You know, I never would have thought that well-dressed feller would have been any match for that punk. He's small, but he's one mean dude. But, that guy didn't even have a scratch on him."

Joe started wiping the counter down. "I don't know, but I didn't see a thing. Did you?"

Brutus thought for a moment about the evil gleam in Josh's eye when he talked about beating up that chick. Brutus had a couple of daughters himself. "Nope. Not a thing."


	7. The Million Dollar Question

"Do you really think this will work?" Eve raised her face a little higher as Roz dabbed something on her cheek.

"Sure, it'll work. I wouldn't waste my time on it if it didn't."

Eve figured she fell into that one. Sensible Roz wasn't one to waste time or mince words.

She stepped back when she was done, looking satisfied. She held up a mirror for Eve to look into.

Eve had to smile when she saw her reflection. "Roz! I think you missed your calling as a make-up artist!"

Roz's serious face had to smile at that comment. "Probably scare those poor girls to death."

"This is great!" Her bruise was barely noticeable.

"We just need you back at work, girl. The old man that's been subbing for you has a serious flatulence problem."

Eve snickered. "I know him. I heard he was working with Judge Mathis now."

Roz snickered, too. "Deserves it, the old fart."

Eve rose from the chair. "After a whole weekend of homemade remedies and solutions, this bruise just wouldn't fade."

Roz's voice softened. "He really wholloped you a good one, didn't he?"

Eve looked in the mirror. "You should have seen it the next day. I hated that the others had to see me like that.

Roz studied her friend, debating on whether to tell her or not.

Eve felt the woman's scrutiny and turned away from her reflection. "What?"

Roz sighed and made a face. "Oh, I don't know. It's just something I'm trying to wrap my mind around, that's all. It goes against everything I know about certain folks, and I don't like my little world being thrown into disarray."

Eve reached for her coat. "I can relate to that."

Roz walked to the couch. "I think you might want to sit down for this."

Eve looked at her funny, but complied.

Roz settled next to her. "Now, don't get mad at us for prying into your business or anything, but it was Harry's idea."

"Harry's idea to do what?"

Roz made a face. "Josh left town."

Eve's eyes widened, relieved, but wary. "He _what_? How do you know? What does Harry have to do with it?"

Roz held up her hands for silence, and Eve's questions tapered off. "I got ahold of a police report that said a Joshua Hardy had the crap kicked out of him at Stanley's Bar over on Westminister."

Eve shrugged. "That's not unusual. He would pick fights with guys twice his size when he was drunk."

"Well, Harry made some calls, and come to find out, after he was discharged from the hospital, he headed straight for the bus station. He's long gone, Eve."

Eve leaned back in the couch. "I expected to see him at some point again . . ."

"Well, I ain't saying you won't, but for now, he's heading back to where he crawled from, pretty banged up, too. Concussion, broken bones, you name it."

Eve giggled, feeling so elated, she didn't care if it sounded heartless. "If I could find the man who did it do him, I'd give him a big, wet slobbery kiss."

Roz's sober look made her smile fade. "What is it now, Roz? You look . . . perplexed."

Roz's lips tightened. "The police don't know who did it, and Josh didn't talk to the doctors. He said it was just a bar room brawl. And lit out of there before the cops showed up."

"Okay . . ."

"But, my uncle is the bartender there. He told me that a tall, well-dressed man with graying hair came in there late Friday night, watched Josh on the sly for about an hour, then proceeded to beat the crap out of him in the bathroom with a pool cue."

Eve's eyebrows furrowed in thought. The matchbook she now couldn't find. What was the name of the bar? "Your uncle didn't tell this to the police?"

Roz pursed her lips. "He said Josh was bragging about what he did to you, and no one had much patience for it. But, that's not my point, Eve." She took a deep breath, deciding how this should be worded. "I spoke to my uncle on Sunday, and when Monday rolled around, I made sure I got a good look at Dan Fielding's hands. Honey, they were bruised and skinned up, just like he had been in a fight."

Eve leaned back into the couch, her stomach in knots. "I don't understand . . ."

"What's there to understand? I thought I'd never see it in my life, but cowardly ol' Dan beat the living daylights out of another man. Rightfully so, I may add," Roz crossed her arms over her chest, daring her to deny it.

Eve opened her mouth, then shut it several times, her mind reeling. "Dan was angry about what happened. At least I thought he was, but it's so hard to tell with that man," she babbled. "But, he never strikes me as a violent type." She finally looked at Roz. "Did you tell him? You know, that you knew?"

Roz shook her head. "I just put two and two together. I didn't tell him or no one else what I thought. Have you heard from him?"

Eve looked like she was a million miles away. "Nope. Not since Friday night." She focused on Roz once again. "Should I have?"

Roz shrugged. "I dunno. He's just acting so . . . strange when it comes to you that I thought that . . . well . . . maybe . . . you two were . . . you know."

Eve colored, and rolled her eyes to cover her discomfort. "No, I have not 'you know' with Dan."

Roz stood up. "I just don't know about the whole thing. I'd never known Dan to care about anyone but himself, and he really isn't acting very different from that now, spending most of Monday chasing some skirt that was up on some charge. If it weren't for his bruised knuckles, I never would have figured it out."

"Maybe you're mistaken?" Eve hoped that was it. She didn't know how to take any of this information, either.

But, Roz's gaze told her that she was most certainly NOT mistaken.

"That's what I was afraid of."

* * *

Eve kept silent on the entire walk to the courthouse. Roz seemed lost in her own thoughts, too, so she didn't feel too bad about not keeping up a polite chatter.

_Did Dan really do that? Should I say something to him?_

She shook her own head at that. Nope, that would not be a good idea. If he wanted people to know, he'd tell them. Plus, how would it look for a city employee to be kicking people's asses with a pool cue?

Not that she wasn't flattered that he had done it. It touched her deeply to know that anyone cared about her well-being that much. It was just that it seemed so . . . so weird. Except for that one moment in her apartment after she told him what Josh had done, her relationship with him was purely platonic. In fact, it was so platonic, it was borderline dull.

So, the million dollar question was _why_ did he do it?

Eve could think of no reason that made any sense.

* * *

Little did she know that was a question Dan was still struggling to answer in his own mind. It was scary to think he was capable of such violence, but in a way, it was downright satisfying. The creep deserved it, and he felt no remorse. Even if he pressed charges, Dan honestly believed it was worth it.

But, to avoid truly having to look within himself, he was covering it up with pure indifference and a little fling with a woman who was accused of prostitution, but actually was offering free samples from a new restaurant in town on the sidewalk.

But, apparently, that wasn't the only 'free samples' she was willing to dole out.

And, it was easy to avoid thinking about it until Eve walked into the courtroom with Roz just moments before the session was to begin.

Bull spoke to her, and she laughed at something he said, her bruise barely visible through Roz's make-up job. Then, her eyes met his.

He managed a tight smile and a nod, wondering why his heart was beating so loudly, and if everyone around him could hear it.

She responded with a hesitant smile of her own before Bull announced the beginning of the session.

"Glad to have you back, Ms. Cantrell," Harry said when he stepped up to the bench. "Mr. Amos was about to run us all from the courtroom."

"It's good to be back, sir."

"Well, what's the first case, Mac?"

Dan stole glances at her when he could. Out of habit, probably picked up several years before when he first started beating her, she kept her head down, hair draped over that side of her face, and he felt a small resurgence of anger.

But, Josh was long gone, thanks to Harry's sleuthing.

Dan couldn't help but wish he had beaten him to death. That way, he couldn't hurt Eve again.

"Mr. Counselor? Earth to Dan."

Dan shook himself out of his revelry. "Oh, sorry, sir. Just . . . thinking. What was the question again?"

"I said, did you have anything to say? About your client?"

Dan glanced at the woman dressed as a mermaid charged with harassment for accosting people on the streets to help save the oceans. He pulled his battered right hand that he tried his best to keep hidden out of his pocket to open the file. "Oh. Uh . . .nope. Everything's copacetic."

He immediately realized his error and put his hand behind his back, out of sight.

But, not before Eve saw the bruises on his knuckles for herself.

And looked away.

* * *

"OK, everyone. See you tomorrow." Harry banged his gavel for the last time.

Eve was so caught up in what Roz had told her, wondering if she should speak to Dan, and if she did, what should she say. "Hi" just seemed a little too tame, but "I know that you kicked his ass for me" a little much.

When someone cleared his throat behind her, she jumped.

A police officer was standing behind her. A police officer with flowers.

Eve struggled for a name. "Lieutenant . . . Dash!" _What in the world_ . . .

He moved his weight from one leg to the other, clearly uncomfortable. "Hi, Eve. I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by to see how you're doing."

"Well, as good as can be expected." She thought he was cute with his little puppy dog eyes behind thick glasses. "Are those . . . for me?"

He held them out quickly, almost as if he forgot about them. "Ahh, yeah. I just thought you could use something to brighten up your day. And, I have some news."

She took the flowers from them, burying her nose in their scent to hide her discomfort. Surely, he wasn't here to arrest Dan? Was he?

Eve decided she fight to the death to keep that from happening.

"Did you catch Josh?" She knew full well the answer, but she wasn't going to let him know that.

Now that Peter didn't have anything in his hands, he looked even more uncomfortable. Finally, he thrust them in his pockets, making him look like a little boy. "We didn't catch him, but we do know he's left the area. Now that he's out of our jurisdiction, we can't do much. But, I thought you might want to know."

Eve hoped she looked surprised enough. "Oh, that's wonderful news!"

"It seems he got beat up pretty good at a bar last weekend and decided to hit the road. We still don't know who did that, and no one in the bar seems to be talking . . ." It bothered him a great deal when the law was broken, even if it meant a creep like Josh was beat up, but the helpless feeling that came with it was all too common in Manhattan.

"Oh, he probably blabbed off to some biker dude and later wished he hadn't." She didn't dare glance over at Dan, who she knew was standing nearby. She didn't know how she knew that without actually looking, but she did. He had crept under her skin, and it irritated her to no end.

Peter looked more uncomfortable with each passing minute. "Yeah, you're probably right." He feel into an uneasy silence.

Eve sniffed the flowers again. "Thank you very much for the bouquet. I'll put it on water as soon as I get home."

He smoothed imaginary wrinkles on his uniform, looking like he had something else to say. Finally, he cleared his throat. "Look, if you aren't doing anything tonight, I was wondering if I could take you out for a drink?"

Eve hid her smile behind the flowers. "Why, isn't that mixing business and pleasure, Lieutenant Dash?"

He colored so many shades of red that she almost laughed aloud.

She knew Dan was watching, but she suddenly did not care. He had no claims to her. At least, not that she knew of.

"I was just joking, Peter. And, I'd love to. Just let me find a vase to put these in, and I'll be right with you."

Peter was so relieved at her answer, that after she left the almost empty courtroom, he started whistling. And turned right into a double-breasted grey suit.

Dan stared down his nose at him. "Excuse me, Officer."

Peter backed up a bit. "Oh, umm, sure. No problem."

But, Dan just kept glaring.

Eve chose that moment to return. Peter saw her gait falter a bit, but she planted a smile on her face. "Oh, hi, Dan. I see you've met Officer Peter Dash. He was there the night . . . well . . . when Josh showed up."

Dan looked as disinterested as he could. "I'm sure he's one of the city's finest." He wrapped his arm around the waist of a short little red-head with gorgeous green eyes. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Giselle and I have a date." For some inane reason, he wanted to make Eve jealous.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem to work.

Eve didn't like the way he suddenly decided to talk down to her. "Well, if you'll excuse us, we have a date, too."

"So I heard. Have a good time, kiddos."

"You, too, _Reinhold_."

Eve loved the bolt of annoyance on Dan's face.

Giselle looked up at him. "I thought your name was . . ."

"Forget it. Just a nickname. An _awful_ nickname." He made sure he eyed Eve as distastefully as he could. "Let's go."

Before they could exit the courtroom, Eve couldn't resist. "Oh, Giselle, honey?"

The redhead turned around at the sound of her name.

"I'd watch out for Danny boy, here. He tends to call his lovers by other women's names."

Giselle turned around and narrowed her pretty eyes at Dan as he shot daggers at Eve.

All Eve did was smile sweetly, although her eyes didn't look quite as sweet. "You ready to go, Peter?"

Peter had watched the entire exchange and wondered what was going on. "Uh, sure."

He escorted her from the courtroom, but not before he stole a glance at Dan and Giselle arguing behind them.

"Do you know that man?" he asked, trying to make sense of the undercurrent of emotions back in the courtroom.

"No one knows Dan better than himself. And he prefers to keep it that way," she said in a clipped voice.

Peter knew when to change the subject.

* * *

It was strange.

If anyone else had done what he did for her, the depths of her appreciation would have known no boundaries.

But, Dan had been distant and cold lately. Oh sure, the comment to Giselle, who she noted with some satisfaction was no longer in the picture, probably didn't help, but it seemed like if he were going to step out of his comfort zone briefly for her, he could at least connect with her in some way.

Especially after the way he touched her bruised cheek, a fiery look in his dark eyes.

She tried not to think about that too much.

The last think she needed to do was get involved with the rat's nest of emotions that was Daniel Fielding.

So, she threw herself into work. And into dating Peter Dash. He was a sweet guy, but was so awkward, especially with anything physical.

Eve couldn't help but think that Dan wouldn't be that awkward each time Peter kissed her, then almost wished she could banish that man from her mind.

Mind games. That's all he was playing was mind games.

And, Eve hated mind games. A part of her wondered if he was playing games within his own head, and all of them were just getting caught up in it.

But, who cares? Dan would only care about himself in the end.

It was sad. And a little scary.

But, that was the life of Dan Fielding, apparently.

And she wanted no part of it.

She didn't owe him anything. Sure, he had committed felony assault on her behalf. And, if she were honest with herself, she would have admitted he had no claim to her, no reason to protect her like he had. Their relationship was somewhere between "acquaintance" and "friend." So, she didn't owe him a thing.

Did she?


	8. Spooky at Macy's

I'm not sure if all bailiffs carry weapons. And, honestly, I'm not sure how many bullets were in them. But, knowing pistols like I do, it's either 6 or a clip of 16. So, I might've made this up. But, hey? Isn't that what this is all about? – tonygirl

* * *

"Next case, Mack."

"_Stiles vs. Macy's. _Apparently, Mr. Stiles here," Mack motioned towards the mousey looking man standing between Dan and Christine, "held a mannequin a gun-point in the store."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "A mannequin?"

"Looking for a date, now are we?" Dan said in his fake sweet voice.

Eve rolled her eyes, but kept typing.

Mr. Stiles adjusted his glasses. "No. That mannequin kept _looking_ at me. You know, with those dead looking eyes. It was _spooky_."

"Well, that wasn't the only thing _spooky_ in Macy's that day," Dan adjusted his coat dismissively.

Harry gave Dan a dirty look, but Dan didn't notice. "It seems Mr. Stiles needs a little stint at Bellview, don't you agree Ms. Sullivan?"

"That would be an excellent idea, your honor."

"Mr. Prosecutor?"

"File him under 'D' for deranged."

"A simple 'yes, Your Honor' would have sufficed." Harry banged his gavel. "Good. Next case."

Roz came over to escort the man away.

But, he wasn't as puny as he seemed. Quick as a cat, he managed to snatch Roz's sidearm. She lunged at him, but he held the gun on her, a triumphant gleam in his eye. "Don't think I won't, missy."

There was a scream from one of the onlookers, but before Eve could turn around to see what was going on, Mr. Stiles fired a shot into the air, a look of pure pleasure at the power he held on his face. Ceiling plaster fell all around them.

"OK, folks, everybody out." Stiles's voice sounded relatively calm, surprisingly enough.

Most people were frozen into place, unbelieving, including Eve. This had never happened before, as strange as this courtroom was, and she wondered what protocol was in this situation.

Most everyone else seemed just as stunned as she was.

Harry stood, putting both hands in front of him. "OK, Mr. Stiles. There's no need to get violent. No one's out to get you. Are we folks?"

Most everyone shook their heads in agreement.

Stiles wasn't impressed, still holding the pistol at Roz. "You. Back up."

Roz complied. Even she couldn't argue with a bullet.

He motioned with the pistol. "OK. All you, out the back door."

They didn't hesitate to comply, only too relieved to follow orders.

Once the small hoard had stampeded away, he motioned for Roz and Bull to follow.

Bull looked like he wanted to lunge.

Roz put a hand on his arm. "Don't even think about it, buster. He'll shoot you dead before you even get close."

Bull allowed himself to be lead away.

"OK. Everyone else, out." He fired the pistol again in the air for emphasis.

Everyone gratefully started to obey.

Eve thought she couldn't get away fast enough and took a couple of steps towards the door.

Until he pointed the pistol at Dan. "Except you."

* * *

If Eve could have protested, she would have. Wholeheartedly. But, all she could do was stop her retreat, staring openly at this crazy little man with a stolen gun, her mind a jumbled mess of fear and outrage.

"_What?_ _Me_? Why _me_?" Dan asked, his voice more than a little terrified. He had stopped his retreat when the gun was pointed in his direction, but took a tentative step towards the door, hoping the guy would change his mind.

Instead, Stiles fired a shot at the floor at Dan's feet.

"I said stop."

That's just what Dan did.

"Mr. Stiles. Attempted murder of a city employee wouldn't look good with the powers that be," Harry tried to reason, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"Yeah. I'm not worth it," Dan argued.

But, Stiles didn't look impressed. He motioned with the gun to the remaining people in the room as he stepped closer to his prisoner. "Move along, now. There's nothing to see here."

"But . . ."

Stiles was running out of patience. He fired another shot into the air. "Go!"

Eve heard the scurrying of feet as everyone else complied, but she could not make her feet respond. Despite her fear for her safety, her eyes couldn't leave Dan's face. This man she had spent most of her time being annoyed with was at the mercy of some crazy nut job, and she wanted with all her being to do something.

Strange for her because she wasn't normally the brave one.

Dan's eyes met hers. Some of the fear temporarily faded.

"Eve, honey. You've got to leave." His voice shook a little.

She opened her mouth to say something.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "What are you? Dumb? Deaf? I said move!" He fired another shot to make a point, the plaster raining down on her from the ceiling.

That got her attention. And Roz's arm grabbing her from the doorway. Eve found herself in the hallway before she knew what was going on.

It was pandemonium. People were crying and shrieking and praying. Eve took it all in, almost like an uninterested observer, her mind numb.

Roz hauled her to their little huddled group in the corner of the hallway by the restrooms. Dumbly, she looked at them all trying to process what was being said.

"OK, who called the cops?" Roz asked sensibly.

"Bull did a few minutes ago. They're on their way. SWAT teams, hostage negotiators, you name it," Harry answered grimly.

Mack tossed a file to Harry. "I knew I recognized this guy. He held a guy hostage for eight hours a couple of years ago. Shot him, then got off on a technicality."

Eve didn't hear anything past "shot him." Her blood rushed to her head, filling it with a whooshing sound.

_No. Not Dan. _

"Five." She blurted it out.

Everyone looked at her.

"Five? Five what?" Christine asked, sticking close to Harry.

Eve mentally counted to make sure she had it right. "He fired the gun five times." She looked at Roz for confirmation.

Roz caught on fast. "Yeah. So, that means there's only one left . . ."

"Now, don't you two go doing something stupid. I won't allow it – no, I forbid it!" Christine protested. "Let the cops take care of it! It's their job, not ours."

"But . . ."

"No, Christine's right." He glanced pointedly at Eve. "Dan'll be just fine. You'll see. Now, let's all go to my office and stay out of the way, so the police can do their jobs."

Most everyone followed. Except for Eve. And Roz. In the crowd in the hallway, no one noticed them slink away.

They found a quiet corner out of sight of Harry's office and put their heads together.

"How do we make him use that other bullet?" Roz asked.

Normally, Eve wasn't brave. Impulsive, maybe. But, not brave. However, she couldn't bear the thought of Dan being held at gunpoint. It outraged her, and she ground her teeth to control her anger.

"I have an idea." Actually, it was more of a half-cocked suggestion, but it was all they had.

"Anything to get my damn gun back from that idiot in there," Roz admitted matter-of-factly.

* * *

Dan eyed the man carefully. He tried to lean casually against the table, but it was hard with a mean-looking gun pointed at his head.

"You are one nasty attorney, you know that?"

Dan didn't think it wise to protest. "Sure. I know that. Nastiest one around." He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants legs.

Stiles blinked once, surprised at his agreement. But, his surprise quickly turned to irritation. "Don't try to agree with me and get this gun away from me. It happened like that once, but I won't fall for it again." He ranted on and on.

_Great. This guy's done this before._

Bravery wasn't one of Dan's strong points. It was actually very low on his list of appealing character traits. And, with a gun to his head, he was having a hard time coming up with any very much in his character that actually _was_ appealing.

What a time to come to _that_ realization!

Stiles talked away, getting angrier by the moment. ". . . are the same. All of you think you're better than me when you're not!" His wrist jerked, and the gun waved wildly.

Sweat ran down Dan's face, his eyes honed onto his trigger finger. Thoughts flitted around in his head with no pattern or method that made sense.

Except one.

He had been irrational lately with her. He knew it. But, it was easier than facing the facts. Not only had he broken any number of laws by beating that guy's face in, but he liked it.

Something had definitely shifted in their relationship, if you could even call it a relationship. Now, that she was dating that cop, it just made it worse. By honing in on any other woman but her, he could forget, even momentarily, that he was at a complete and total loss on how to approach her.

The courtroom was silent, cavernous. Dan realized Stiles had stopped his diatribe and was watching him intently.

"What do you want?" Dan asked, surprised his voice wasn't shaky.

Stiles seemed to think about it for a moment. "Respect. They walk by me on the street, running into me almost as if I'm not there."

Dan shrugged. "Hey, this is New York."

"I bet they don't do that to you."

"Well, I'm six-four. It's kind of hard not to see me."

"Oh, so now, you're making fun of my height. I oughtta . . ."

* * *

Eve peaked through the double doors. So far, so good. Dan and Stiles had their backs to her, which was even better. She wrapped her hands around her chosen weapon, a wooden chair from the hallway. And waited for her cue.

She couldn't hear what they were saying to each other, but it most certainly was not a friendly conversation.

_C'mon, Dan. Don't piss him off anymore than he already is._

Roz would get Stiles to fire the last bullet, and she would go in there and bean him upside the head.

Sounded so intelligent a minute ago, but now . . .

She hoped this worked. It was all she could think of, but if she thought about it too much, she might back out.

But, there was no way in _hell_ she was going to leave Dan in there with that man.

There was _no way._

Roz threw open the door next to where she and Bull usually stood, using a mop.

In his shock, Stiles pointed the gun away from Dan haphazardly.

"Who's there?"

_Fire, damnit! Fire it! Just not at Dan!_

But, for once, the trigger-happy Stiles didn't fire.

But, he did do something that made coming up with a plan B a whole lot easier. Roughly grabbing Dan by the arm, he pointed the gun at him and started for the double doors, his back to them.

"Look. Whoever you are, back off. I'll shoot him. I swear I will. I've done it before."

"Yeah. Back off. Please," Dan echoed nervously.

Eve could see their backs getting closer and closer.

_C'mon. C'mon_.

When she figured they were close enough, she took a deep breath and threw open the doors.

Stiles didn't have time to react. Before he could turn, Eve brought the old wooden chair down on his head.

Dan jumped away in surprise.

Stiles hit the floor with a whoosh of air, the gun skittering out of reach.

For a moment, all Eve could do was look at Stiles lying there, then back at Dan, who was staring at her disbelievingly. Her breathing was labored as the adrenaline pulsed through her veins.

Her arms were aching, and she remembered she was still holding the chair practically over her head. She sat it down gently by her side.

"Now we're even," she practically whispered.

Dan didn't have time to reply. The room immediately filled with people, including Harry, looking mad as a hornet.

But, Roz was right behind him, not looking very apologetic at all. She held up a hand for a high-five. It took Eve a moment to realize what she wanted.

"You go, girl!" Roz said. "I couldn't have done it better myself."


	9. Lay Off the TouchyFeely Stuff

Eve washed her face in the restroom, glad for a moment to collect herself. She had made statement after statement to the police about the incident. When she thought she could go home and crawl into bed, another officer would show up wanting another statement.

Peter even showed up. He was trying to be helpful, but all Eve could do was brush him off. She wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. Eventually, he must have given up because she hadn't seen him for the last little while.

She didn't know where Dan was. He was whisked away, apparently to make his own statement fifty times. He never spoke to her, didn't have a chance to.

But, what was she expecting? A gold medal? A pat on the back? He had been treating her downright obnoxiously since Josh showed up, and Eve didn't know why. She had almost convinced herself she really didn't care.

Until tonight.

He could have been killed.

Eve leaned on the sink with both hands heavily, hoping she wasn't going to be sick.

The door opened and shut. She could hear two sets of feet.

"You alright?"

Christine laid a hand on her shoulder.

Eve didn't move. "I guess."

"Harry's really not that mad at you. I think it just scared him, that's all."

"I think I scared myself."

"He was in trouble. You couldn't help yourself," Roz said sensibly.

Eve looked up, feeling all her emotions so near the surface. "Why would I do something so . . . so stupid?"

Roz and Christine looked at each other, almost as if one was asking the other to speak up.

Finally, Roz cleared her throat. "You saw a fellow human in trouble, and you wanted to help. At least, as much as Dan is considered human. And – Lord help me, as much as I hate to admit it - he likes you."

"Dan Fielding only likes one thing. Himself," Eve scoffed. But, her eyes filled with tears just the same. It was the truth. She had to face it. "Please. I just want to be alone."

Christine patted her once on the back and followed Roz out the door.

* * *

The longer the questioning went, the more agitated Dan became. Before he realized it, he was pacing back and forth in Harry's office, the current questioning officer watching him like a ping-pong ball.

"Look. You're treating me like I was the one who stole the gun." Dan gestured wildly. "It wasn't me. It was that Stiles fellow with the mannequin fetish."

The officer wasn't impressed. "It's just standard procedure, Mr. Fielding."

"Well, I still don't have to like it," Dan pouted.

The officer shook his head, relenting. It was late, after all. "Fine. We know where you are if we need you."

Dan was so glad to be free, he almost beat the officer to the door.

Bull was standing right outside.

"Where is she?" Dan asked hurriedly.

For once, Bull knew what he was talking about. He motioned. "In there."

Dan didn't hesitate. He almost bowled right through Roz and Christine as they walked out the restroom door.

* * *

Eve heard the door open again.

_All I wanted was a minute alone. You'd have thought I asked for the Hope diamond._

"I told you both I would be fine . . ."

"That was probably the dumbest thing I've ever seen in my life."

Eve whirled around. "This is a _women's_ restroom!"

He glanced around, uninterestingly. "Looks like any other one to me."

Maybe it was because it was so late and she had such an eventful day, but it took a minute for what he first said to dawn on her. She narrowed her eyes, surprised at the surge of anger. "I wasn't expecting a ticker tape parade, but Roz and I saved your _life_! I bet you didn't give her this little speech, did you? Because for some reason, I cannot take care of myself, is that it? I need you to tell me what to do and what to where and what to say because I'm a helpless little woman, huh?"

His shoulders slumped, and he ran his hand over his face. "Look, that didn't come out right." His tie was loosened from around his neck, and his shirt and coat were rumpled, some of the plaster still stuck to it. He looked exhausted beyond belief.

Eve almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

But she in no way could push aside how he'd been treating her lately.

"What is it with you, Dan? You treat me like some new form of pond scum lately, then you give me this diatribe about what I should do and who I should date, like it's any of _your_ business. Because you know something? It's _not_! You have no claim to me. _None_." She gestured towards the door. "All those women you run around with on an hourly basis and probably for an hourly rate, are who you can lay claims to. Not me. Not by a long shot."

He ran a hand through his hair and took a step closer to her. "I'm not _trying_ to control you . . ." _If she would just be quiet for a minute!_

She continued her ranting. If she wasn't feeling so exhausted, she probably would have kept her mouth shut. But, as it was, she seemed temporarily unable to do so. "We'll you're doing a fine job of _trying_ not to tell me what to do," she jeered. "What would you have rather me done in there? Nothing? Leave you at the mercy of the cops you are constantly berating? Because, let me tell you something, buster, if we hadn't done what we did, he could have shot you . . ." she faltered for a moment, but tried to continue as blustery as before, ". . . and you'd be . . ." She trailed off.

_Damn it, why do I have to cry?_

She turned away from him. "Leave. Now" She wrapped her arms around herself and waited for him to go, for his footsteps to head to the door.

She heard footsteps, alright, but not heading away from her.

He stood directly behind her, rubbing her arms up and down with both hands. "C'mon, Eviegirl. Don't cry. I can't stand it when you cry." He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, breathing in the clean scent of her hair.

She sniffed, the tears falling quicker. "It's your fault." She tried to wriggle away from him.

"Turn around. Look at me."

"No." Maybe he'd leave her alone if she used stubbornness.

"Please?" She could feel his breath lightly against her hair and shivered just a bit.

So, what did she do? Did she stomp on his foot and run from the restroom? No. Did she stand there with her arms crossed, refusing to look at him? No.

She turned around.

He put both hands gently on her face, just like he did that night in her apartment. "I don't mean to play games, Eviegirl. Especially with you. Sometimes, what I have to say comes out all wrong."

"You're a lawyer. You're supposed to know what to say."

"You're a completely different story. Completely different." His voice was low, tender.

She knew it was a bad idea, but she did it anyway. Plus, she'd wanted to do it for so long. She buried her face in his chest. "I thought he was going to shoot you," she whispered, breathing deeply, memorizing his scent while he was so close. It soothed her frazzled nerves.

He pressed his lips to the top of her head, enjoying the way she fit in his arms. "I did, too, Eviegirl. I guess I owe you a bit of thanks for what you and Roz did. But, tell me something?"

"What?" Her voice was muffled against his shirt.

"What did you mean by, 'now we're even'?"

He felt her stiffen, but refused to let her go. Not after it took him so long to get her there.

She wiped her tears on his shirt. "I know about Josh."

Dan didn't know what to think. He pulled away, so he could look her in the eyes, gripped her arms tightly. "How?"

She bit her lip. "Roz told me. Her uncle was the bartender."

"Oh."

He should have been upset that she knew, that it was so obvious that it was him. But, somehow that wasn't important. What was important was she was fine, he was fine. They would both be fine.

Wouldn't they?

He watched as she took one of his hands in hers and inspected it. The bruises were gone, just like she thought they would be. But, she lightly brushed the back of his hand against her lips without thinking.

She heard him take a sharp breath, and she realized what she was doing, dropping his hand and starting to back away

But, he didn't let her go. Instead, he pulled her against him and leaned down to press his lips to hers.

Automatically, she tilted her head back to receive his kiss, warning bells clanging in her head like a five-alarm fire was in process.

But, she ignored it, instead, wrapping her arms around his neck and tangling her fingers in his hair. It was so very effortless to throw herself into the embrace, to reveal in the feel of his lips on hers and his hands on her body.

Before she realized it, he picked her up and sat her on the edge of the sink, his lips never separating from hers. Maybe because of the scare they had or because she just plain wanted him, she didn't protest. She didn't have the ability to protest as he pressed against her. And, oh boy, was he ever good.

_Probably because he's had lots of practice._

No one said it was ever easy crashing back down to earth.

She pushed him away, having to take a moment to catch her breath before she spoke. "I've . . . I've got to go."

He seemed just as flustered as she, a fact she would have taken pride in if she thought about it too much. "What? What do you mean?"

But, she had already hopped down from her perch, straightening her skirt. She was out the door.

"Wait! What's wrong?" He followed.

"Stop right there!" she said from the hallway.

He complied, standing in the doorway of the women's restroom.

She didn't know why she did it. To prove a point, she guessed.

But, the truth still hurt.

People of all races, creeds and religions were still milling about the hallway. Sometimes, she wondered if they lived there. She turned away from Dan and put her fingers in her mouth, whistling loudly, a move she and Gran used to call the horses.

The hallway immediately quieted.

"OK, folks! Which of you women have spent the night with Dan Fielding?"

Eve looked around. Many of the women in the hallway raised their hands. Some of them were hookers.

Eve turned around and looked at Dan, throwing her hands up. "That's what's wrong, Dan."

He actually had the decency to look ashamed before she stormed away.

* * *

Dan stared at the bottom of his glass almost like he had never seen it before.

"Wanna 'nother?"

He shrugged, and the bartender poured him another scotch. Listlessly, Dan started drinking it down.

Dan always liked this place across from the courthouse when he wanted to be invisible. Not pick up women. Or party. But drink. And that's exactly what he had been doing since he left work.

Someone sat next to him, but he ignored him.

"How's it goin', Dan?"

Dan cut his eyes over at the figure. "Go. Away."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Hey, bartender! Give me whatever he's havin'."

The bartender nodded and proceeded to pour another scotch. Harry took a sip of it and made a face.

"How do you drink this stuff?"

"It's big boy booze. Wouldn't expect you to handle it."

Harry held up the glass. "How many of these things you had, Dan?"

"I dunno. Two?"

Harry glanced at the bartender, and he held up six fingers. His eyes widened, but he didn't mention to Dan the bartender was a snitch.

He took another tentative sip and sat the glass down firmly. "So. What seems to be the problem here?"

Dan rolled his eyes. "Currently, the problem is I want to get shit-faced drunk, but I _cannot_ with all this chatter going on."

"Your brush with death do this to you?"

Dan made a face. "I feel closer to death on the subway than I did back there." Although, the thought of the business end of that pistol pointed in his direction almost made him shudder.

Harry spun his glass in lazy circles. "I think I know what it is."

"Since you're so smart, what?"

Harry took another sip. "The lovely Evelyn Cantrell." His eyes met Dan's in the mirror over the bar.

"Not it," Dan tried to sound convincing, but Harry saw the hurt.

"What's the deal?"

Dan slammed his glass down. "Look. There is no . . ." But, it took too much effort to protest. What harm would come in admitting it anyway? "OK. Fine. You're right."

Harry shrugged, hoping he didn't look too triumphant. "Well?"

"Well, she won't give me the time of day."

"Did you try asking her what time it was?"

Dan shot him a dirty look.

Harry held up his hands. "OK. Sorry, sorry. Seeing you like this is a little . . . unsettling."

Dan turned away. "She's just . . . so . . . and I'm not what she . . . then we . . . aw, shit." He swallowed down the remainder of his drink.

"That was very eloquent for an attorney."

"Ha, ha."

"But, I think I can elaborate. You like her, but don't know how to woo her properly. Meanwhile, the ex shows up, beats her up, and you kick his ass."

"What the _hell_? Did Roz tell you, too?"

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "Roz knows?"

"Well, that's . . . what I heard," Dan sputtered, back peddling. "Her uncle was the bartender."

"Ohhh. Well, I may not have had that connection, but I did ask around. Small world."

"Fine. So, you know? Are you going to turn me in?" he glanced at Harry.

Harry shrugged. "Naw. Systems' too overworked as it is."

Dan hoped he didn't look as relieved as he felt.

"But, let's get back to the issue at hand. You treat her like crap, she treats you like crap back, then you get taken hostage, and she saves your sorry butt."

Dan gave him another dirty look.

"Sorry. Just got caught up in the narrative."

"Well, you forgot the cop boyfriend."

"Ah, yes. The boyfriend. Who she immediately chased away tonight every time he tried to get near her."

"Really?" Dan actually brightened a bit.

"Really," Harry nodded.

Dan's spirits fell back to their original low level. "I don't have anything to offer her."

"Offer her? You sound like you're going to propose," Harry teased.

"Eve's someone that you want to protect. To cherish. To put on a pedestal and worship. Not like . . . well, not like the usual . . . well, you know."

"I've seen them parade through my courtroom more times than I can count."

"She won't have me, Harry. She pushed me away." Dan's voice was so raw that Harry was surprised.

Harry thought for a moment before he spoke. "It seems to me that she's seen everything I've seen. The women. The parties. The stories about the night before."

Dan cringed.

"You've got to _prove_ to her that she's different. Go the extra mile. Treat her like you say she needs to be treated. Then, I bet, she'll change her mind."

Dan stared morosely into his empty glass. "But, what if that doesn't work?"

Harry thought about the look on Eve's face when Stiles had Roz's pistol pointed at Dan. "I think it'll probably work."

"Well? What do I do?"

"Just be yourself. Not, the Dan you usually show, but the Dan that's deep down inside. That you hide from everybody. I think she sees more of that in you than you know. Although how she does it, I have no earthly idea."

Dan studied his friend. "You know something, Harry?"

"What?"

"You really need to lay off the touchy-feely stuff."

Harry smiled. "You're welcome, Dan."


	10. At Least He Didn't Call Me Samantha

Dan took to the streets of New York. It was almost two in the morning, he had had six glasses of scotch, been held at gunpoint and been kissed by a woman that curled his toes and left him lightheaded. All in one day.

So, what did he do?

He should have gone home, that's what he should have done.

But, he didn't.

* * *

Eve tossed and turned in her bed until the sheets were all tangled and twisted. With a loud sigh, she flicked on the light, which displeased Moses. He yawned, stretched and went to find somewhere darker and quieter to sleep.

"Fine! You leave, too! I didn't need you anyway!" She made a face. "I'm talking to my _cat_." She made another face. "Now, I'm talking to myself!"

Silently, she remade her bed, but found she didn't want to go back to pretending to sleep.

Padding into the kitchen, she made herself a glass of warm milk and sat down in the living room with a book she had been attempting to read all evening.

But, she couldn't _concentrate_! Her emotions, emotions she was proud to keep under control and checked at all times, were jumbled around in her mind so badly, she thought she would tear her hair out.

_That kiss! God, that man knew how to kiss!_

"Watch it, Cantrell." She threw up her hands, the book going with it. "There I go! Talking to myself again."

The book it the floor with a thump, startling Moses, who was asleep in a chair. He jumped up and gave her a dirty cat look, then proceeded to lick his paws.

She knew she did the right thing by ending that kiss when she did, although her body was telling her she was a complete and total idiot. But, it would get her no where. He only wanted a quick lay. That's all he ever wanted. And she wasn't the quick lay type.

But, boy, what a lay it would have been!

However, she was pretty sure she'd crossed a line in the hallway, asking who had slept with him. The number of women who admitted it was higher than Eve thought it would be.

"Idiot," she mumbled to herself. When she reached over to get her fallen book, her front door buzzer sounded. She almost fell over, it startled her so badly.

"Probably someone complaining about the noise I'm making," she mumbled. "Or a wrong number." She got a lot of those. Apparently, the single girl a floor above her did a lot of entertaining.

Still mumbling to herself, she stomped over to the floor. "What is it?"

It was silent for a moment. She pushed the button again, fleeting thoughts of Josh momentarily scaring her. "Hello? Who is this?"

"It's Dan."

Her eyes widened for a moment. "What are you doing out at this hour?" Probably catting around. But, it seemed like the question to ask.

"I need to talk to you."

Eve rubbed her eyes. "You need to go home. I'll see you at work." _If I don't run screaming back to Kentucky._

"Please?"

Maybe it was because he didn't normally use that vulnerable tone. But, she did what she shouldn't have. Again.

She buzzed him up.

Damn him for having that power over her.

And caught a glance of herself in the mirror next to the door.

"Ohcrapohcrapohcrap." She thought about rushing to her room and throwing on some decent clothes, maybe a little make-up. But, it was two in the morning, and she would look silly in make-up.

And, why should it even matter? It was her apartment, and if she wanted to lounge around in her pjs and ratty robe, she would.

When he knocked on the door, she took a deep breath before she opened it, pulling her robe tighter around herself.

_Like that's going to keep him from taking it off you._

When she saw him, all thoughts of that nature fled. He looked dog tired, dark circles underneath his eyes from lack of sleep. And, he was still wearing the plaster-covered suit, minus the tie, he had worn all evening. "Where in the world have you been?"

She didn't wait for an answer, ushering him inside and sitting him down on the couch. She took his jacket off and brushed it off a bit before she draped it over the chair. The vague smell of cigarette smoke and booze wafted from it.

"Let me get you something to drink." She thought about the booze and figured he had already had plenty to drink. "Something non-alcoholic. Why haven't you been home? What are you doing out so late?"

He leaned back and shut his eyes. "Just like my Eviegirl. Always trying to take care of other people. Even at two in the morning."

Eve tried not to notice that her heart did a little flip-flop at his claim to her. But, before she could disappear into the kitchen to collect herself and his drink, he grabbed her arm with surprising strength.

"Just sit down here for a moment. With me." He opened one eye to look at her. "Please?"

"Uhh, sure." He let her go, and she settled on the far end of the couch, trying to stay out of his reach. Unbidden, their kiss surfaced in her brain, and she was suddenly uncomfortable.

He opened both eyes. "That's not what I meant, and you know it." He held out his arm.

She made a face, but slid over until she was next to him. He draped his arm across her shoulders and with just a moment's hesitation, she snuggled into his side, her head on his shoulder. It was nice to sit like that for awhile, and Eve could actually feel her body relaxing for the first time that night.

"Dan?"

"Mmmm?" Apparently, he was as relaxed as she was.

"Why're you here?"

He didn't even bat an eyelash. "Because I wanted to tell you that you were right."

"About what?"

"I do hide the real me from people. And, in a way, I do play mind games with everyone. It keeps them from getting to know me. I don't get close to anyone, and I don't have anything to lose. That's what you said. But, I'm alone. And, I don't like it."

"If it's one thing you aren't, it's alone. I've seen all those women . . ."

"Just trying to fill a void. And you know something, it didn't work. But, I think I found someone who can"

She leaned back a bit to get a good look at him, to see if he was serious. He still had his head laid back against the cushions, but he was watching her closely.

"You're drunk." That would explain the very un-Danlike confession.

She should have been mad. But, for some reason, she wasn't.

"No, I'm not."

"So, is that why you smell like a refinery?"

"OK. Maybe I'm a teensy-weensy bit drunk."

"You probably won't even remember this conversation in the morning."

He took his arm that wasn't wrapped over her shoulders and reached out to softly stroke her cheek, pushing her hair away from her face. She almost blushed under the scrutiny.

"Aww, that's one think I could never do is forget about you." He said it so sincerely, Eve's heart melted. But, she didn't want him to know that.

She broke his gaze and snuggled back against his side. "I think you're full of crap."

He could tell she said it with a smile. "Maybe _si_, maybe no. But, one thing's for sure. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

Eve wanted to bring up the fact that the longest he ever dated a woman was two weeks, and that was apparently some sort of record. She wanted to bring up the fact that she wasn't anything like all those others.

But, she didn't. She wanted to enjoy this closeness while she had it.

"Dan?"

When he didn't answer, she leaned back.

He was sound asleep, his head at an impossible angle.

"Oh, good grief." She struggled to her feet and stared at him a minute before silently shaking her head.

Somehow, she managed to get his shoes off and shove him over to where he was actually laying on the couch. Throwing the afghan her Gran made over him, she leaned over him for a moment before heading to her own bed.

"Goodnight, Dan," she whispered in his ear.

"G'night, Eviegirl," he mumbled, half-asleep.

Eve had to smile at that.

_At least he didn't call me Samantha._

Hey, you take your blessings where you can get them.


	11. Me, Jane You, Tarzan

"Reow?"

Dan brushed at his face, trying to get the cold, wet thing away from him.

But, it was persistent, whatever it was.

"Reow?"

Dan swatted at him again, and it jumped onto his chest. "Get off me, Monica! I'm tired." But, then this thing started kneading its claws into his chest, and he knew it wasn't Monica.

Monica kept her fingernails manicured.

"What the _hell_?" he sat bolt upright, scattering Moses, and immediately regretted it. He squeezed his eyes shut and covered his eyes. "Oh, my head."

_Now, where am I? _

He mentally went through what he could remember.

_The courtroom. Hostage._ He grimaced at that. _Eve. The restroom. The bar. Harry._

_Oh, shit._

He opened one eye, then the other, the pounding a little better.

An ugly yellow tabby with half his ear missing was staring at him contemptuously from the chair across the room.

"Yeah, well right back at you, buddy," Dan mumbled.

"It's good to see I'm not the only one who talks to cats," Eve looked refreshing in jeans and a blue University of Kentucky sweatshirt, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. All he felt was grungy and dirty in his clothes from the night before.

She stroked the cat's ears, and the animal got a glazed look on his face.

Dan gave the animal a dirty look. Lucky cat.

"Do you want something to eat? That is, if your stomach can handle it." She headed to the kitchen without waiting for an answer and started rattling pots and pans, making him flinch.

"No, don't go through all that trouble . . ." Dan flinched again, this time because he sounded like he did when he spent the night at a woman's place and she tried to cook for him the next day.

"It's no trouble at all." Eve was having difficulties knowing what to say. There was nothing physical that went on between them.

Actually, she wasn't sure if he even remembered what went on between them last night. Or what didn't go on.

She was so busy frowning at the eggs that she jumped when Dan came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. He nuzzled her neck, making her knees go a little weak.

"I have to admit, this is the first time I've had a woman make me breakfast after I've passed out on her couch." He couldn't help himself. She looked so . . .so homey in front of that stove, cooking him breakfast, that he had to show his approval in the only way he knew how.

"Pass out on many women's couches there, Dan?" If he didn't stop nibbling on her ear, she was going to rip his clothes off right now despite the preaching she did to herself all night about staying away from him.

"Not really. But, I'll tell you what I can _really_ use."

"What's that?" She'd hop right into bed with him right now, breakfast or no.

"A shower."

"Huh?"

He laughed. "You know. Hot water. Soap. Removing dried pieces of the courtroom from myself. A shower?"

"Oh." She mentally chided herself and got a grip on her hormones. "Go into the bedroom. There's everything you should need."

He didn't answer, just kept kissing her neck.

"Dan?"

"Mmmm?"

"I'm not taking a shower with you." Although it certainly had its appeal.

He pulled away, much to her relief, and pouted. "I wasn't even thinking about that."

She went back to scrambling eggs that were now stuck to the bottom of the pan. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah. I was thinking how good you smell. Like bacon. And eggs. Maybe toast and coffee?" He added hopefully.

She swatted at him. "Get out of here!"

He kept out of her reach. "Yes, _ma'am_!"

She heard him shut the door to her bathroom, then heard the shower running a moment later. Glad to have him out of her hair, literally, she finished with breakfast, humming to herself. And trying not to overanalyze the situation.

Dan took his time. Mainly, he was sniffing all of her soaps and shampoos and lotions, enjoying being surrounded by her things. But, the smell of breakfast eventually wafted his direction, making him hurry along.

He made a face at having to put on his clothes from the night before, but did it anyway.

Wouldn't be the first time.

She was reading the paper, breakfast sat out on the table and didn't even glance at him when he came in.

"Feeling better?" She turned the page.

"Well . . . sure," Dan answered, a little uncertain at her disinterest. What was he expecting, anyway? So, he shrugged and pulled out a chair, digging in.

She carefully folded the paper and laid it aside and dug in herself.

They ate in silence for a few minutes.

"You know, I'm surprised you can even eat anything," she motioned with her fork.

"Why's that?" Dan mumbled between bites.

"Well, I've only drank like that twice in my life, and both times, I couldn't even look at food until late the next day, let alone eat."

Dan shrugged and pat his stomach. "Made of iron."

Eve smirked good-naturedly. "Tell me something."

"Anything, Eviegirl."

"Do you even remember what happened last night?"

He put his fork down and wiped his mouth. "You mean, we didn't have wild, passionate monkey sex?"

Eve colored at the suggestion, and he laughed. "I told you that I wouldn't forget, didn't I?"

She fiddled with her silverware. "Yeah, but I didn't actually _believe_ it."

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"Well . . . no. But, it's not like you've had a lot of chances to, either."

"For your information, I remember exactly what I said. And I meant every word."

She continued avoiding his eyes, but she picked up her fork and picked at her uneaten food. "So, now what?"

"What?"

"What happens now?"

Dan leaned back in his chair. "I guess whatever you want, Eviegirl."

She cut her eyes at him. What she _wanted_ and what she _needed_ were two entirely different animals altogether. "You're going to insist on calling me that, aren't you?"

He smiled at her. "That's the only rule. I get to call you Eviegirl."

She rolled her eyes and started clearing the dishes. "You are entirely impossible, you know that?"

As she was reaching for his plate, he pulled her into his lap. She draped her arm across his neck, his face inches from hers.

"Dan, we're going to break this chair." That's right. Ever the sensible one. But those smoky eyes of his were doing things to her that she'd never felt before.

"Screw the chair. I'll buy you another one."

And, he kissed her.

Of course, it turned her into a big ol' pile of hormones with the inability to think for herself. He could have thrown her onto the kitchen table for all she cared at that point.

So, when the phone started ringing, it was hard to get a grip.

"What's that?" he backed off enough to whisper. She was driving him insane, making those little noises as their embrace intensified that he was having a hard time hearing past the blood whooshing in his ears.

"What's what?" she mumbled.

"That ringing."

Her brain couldn't quite catch up. "Oh. Phone." Me, Jane. You, Tarzan.

He started kissing his way up her jaw towards her neck. "Shouldn't you answer it?"

"Not if you keep doing that, I won't." She could feel him smile against her skin.

Finally, it stopped ringing, but started all over again a moment later.

"Crap." Reluctantly, she disentangled herself from him and stomped to the living room.

"Hello," she said a little breathlessly.

"Hi, Eve. It's me, Harry."

"Harry?"

"You know, Judge Harold T. Stone?"

Eve made a face. "I know who you are. I just wasn't expecting you to call, that's all."

"Well, I wanted to let you know that you can have the night off if you want. The powers that be decided after your heroics last night, you might be a little drained. Plus, they don't want you suing them for lack of proper police protection."

"Oh. Uh . . . no, I'm fine." Plus, she needed the money. Missing work was not really an option right now.

"That's what Roz said, too. You women must be tougher than we give you credit for."

By now, Dan had come up behind her and started nuzzling the back of her neck again. So, she was temporarily able to answer.

"Hello? Anyone there?"

She swatted Dan away. "Yeah, Harry, I'm here. Just . . . distracted, that's all."

"Well, tell your distraction he can have the night off, too."

She put her hand over the receiver and turned around. "Dan, Harry says you . . . _hey_!" she exclaimed into the receiver. "How did you know . . ."

"I didn't. Just a lucky guess," Harry laughed. He hung up before she could sputter any protests.

She slammed down the phone loudly, moving just out of Dan's reach.

"What did Harry want?"

"He says you can have the night off if you want."

Dan brightened considerably. "Hey, not a bad idea! You and I can spend the day together. Take a walk in the park. Have a real dinner." _Make wild, passionate sex right here on the floor._

He said it so hopefully, that Eve almost kicked herself for agreeing to work. But, her senses finally came crashing down the earth. "I told him I'd come in."

"_What_?" He looked at her sternly. "A freebie comes rarely in this business, Eviegirl. You learn to take it where you can get it."

"Seems like I've heard you say that before. About women." She didn't know where that comment had come from, but she did remember him saying something similar not long after she started working with them. And she also remembered thinking how she would never, ever get involved with a guy like that.

_Ha!_

His face fell for a moment, and she immediately regretted her decision. Then the composed mask of Dan Fielding she was so used to seeing fell into place. "I guess I should be going, anyway."

"Dan, I'm . . ."

He held up his hand. "Nope. No apologies. You're only telling the truth. And as much as I might not want to hear it, I should expect it. You're a smart girl, and I've got to somehow prove to you that there's really more to me than that."

"Maybe that's your problem. You think you've got to prove things to people when all you really have to do is be yourself." How in the world had they come around to this subject?

"You sound like Harry," he said with a half-smile, kissing her on the forehead.

Before she realized it, he had gathered up his jacket still tossed over the chair and left, closing the door softly behind him.

What the_ hell?_

One minute, he can't keep his hands off her, and the next, it's back to a platonic kiss on the forehead.

Of course, she didn't have to be so snarky about the take-it-where-you-can-get-it comment, either.

But, what did she really want, anyway? One minute, she's ready for a roll in the hay, and the next, she realizes that's not such a hot idea.

She wandered into the kitchen, almost in a daze and saw the mess from breakfast scattered about.

He even left her to clean up!

The jerk.

* * *

Dan tossed his keys and wallet on the sideboard by the front door. His condo was most certainly nicer than Eve's apartment, but it sure wasn't as lived in. While hers had those small personal touches that made it a home, his could have been subleased without too much work moving anything personal. Few pictures, paintings, or knick knacks.

Although he had never been one to care one way or the other – who needs to feel at home when you're constantly on the go searching for fame, fortune and female companionship? – he suddenly felt . . . dissatisfied.

There were no homemade afghans draped over chairs. No hand-crocheted doilies and pictures of friends and family scattered about. There wasn't even a rag-tag tom cat acting like he owned the place. Just things. Quality things, but still things.

He didn't like the way he left her, but he needed to retreat, to gather his wits about him. It had been a long time since he'd actually courted a woman, not just for sex, but because he really liked her, and he had to figure out where to go from now.

Not that he didn't want to hop in the bed with her. He had this feeling that there was more to Evelyn Cantrell than the plain-spoken, casually-dressed, almost prudish front she put on. Perhaps he wasn't the only one not showing his true colors.

This required some thought.


	12. ThreeToed Sloth

Eve felt out-of-sorts all day. She did some laundry and straightened her apartment, then went to the store for a few groceries. Before she returned home, a cold rain began to fall. She snapped on the radio in her old pick-up truck, and the forecasts predicted snow before morning. That had to make her smile. While it did snow on occasion in Kentucky, it was rare enough to be a treat when it did. She was glad she picked up some groceries now because driving in that weather was beyond her realm of experience.

That wasn't the only thing that was out of her realm of experience.

So, she did the only thing she knew to do. She ignored it. Sure, it was difficult to push the emotions that made her all hot and bothered to the side, but she just didn't think about it. She also didn't think about the bitter disappointment when he up and left that morning.

But, what was she? A drama queen? She couldn't have her cake and eat it, too. If he stayed away, fine. If he didn't, that's fine, too.

She really expected the former to be the case. Obviously, she wasn't the easy catch he was accustomed to, so maybe he gave up.

Somehow, she didn't take him for a quitter. But, she'd been wrong before.

She hoped she was.

_There I go again. Thinking in circles._

It was still raining buckets by the time she stepped off the bus in front of the courthouse. She scurried into the building and up the elevator to the courtroom.

Art had been busy. The plaster in the ceiling was patched, and there was no sign of the struggle from the night before.

_Was that really just last night? It seemed like eons ago._

A rather prickly older assistant D.A. who normally worked a day shift was taking Dan's place for the night. For a moment, Eve was glad he wasn't there. It sure was easy to convince herself to stay away when he wasn't right in front of her.

Bull called the courtroom to order, and it was back to the old grindstone.

Eve was glad when no one mentioned what happened the night before. She thought maybe Harry hadn't told anyone that Dan was at her place early this morning.

But, during the supper break, she was up for disappointment.

"So, Eve," Harry said, catching up to her. "Any big plans for tonight?"

Eve gathered her tray for her nightly dose of heartburn. "Nope." Maybe short answers would make him back off.

"Are you _sure_ you're not doing anything tonight?"

Eve slammed her tray down on the nearest table after paying. "_No_, I do _not_ have any plans for tonight. Except feed my cat. Read. Watch TV." Somehow, that didn't seem quite as satisfying as it usually would.

"Oh." Harry was silent for a moment as he settled beside her. "It's just unlike him to be, so . . . you know . . . standoffish."

"Unlike who?" Roz and Mac made themselves at home.

"Dan."

"Dan? Standoffish? Maybe if Eve were a three-toed sloth." Mac said, studying his dinner unappealingly.

"Dan's dating a three-toed sloth?" Christine appeared from no where and settled next to Harry.

"No, Dan's dating Eve. I think." Harry didn't notice Eve's discomfort.

Eve put her face in her hands. If the floor had swallowed her then, it would have been a relief. "I am _not_ dating Dan!"

"Then why was he at your place early this morning when I called?"

Everyone stopped eating and stared at her. She could have died right then. But, might as well get it over with. "Look. He showed up at 2 in the morning drunk off his gourd and passed out on my couch. End of story."

Roz made a face. "I don't know . . ."

Eve pointed her fork at her. "You _better_ know." She ignored the indignation on Roz's face. "It's the _truth_. I made him breakfast, and he left."

"Who makes a guy breakfast that passes out on your couch?" Christine asked thoughtfully.

Eve sighed. "It was just the . . . hospitality in me. Or something."

Roz eyed her carefully. "Are you sure you two didn't . . . you know?"

"Good grief, Roz! No!" _Not that he didn't try. Or I didn't want to._ Of course, she started blushing at the thought.

Roz changed the subject. Thankfully.

The remainder of the session went by uneventfully. Eve gathered her stuff and headed out as soon as possible. But, she was waylaid by her supervisor, who chose this night of all nights to go over her work.

The courtroom was deserted by the time she walked into the hallway. It was relatively quiet, most everyone gone home for the evening.

When she stepped into the lobby, she knew why.

It was sleeting.

Just dandy.

She looked at her watch. If she hurried, she could just make the last bus.

Rushing out the door, she ran right into the one person she had been trying to convince herself all day she didn't want to see.

"Dan!" she shifted her bag on her shoulder so she could wrap her coat around her tighter. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't glad to see him.

"I thought I was going to have to come in there and get you. C'mon, let's get going."

She balked. "Am I missing something, here? I don't remember any plans of any kind. Maybe you're still hungover."

He rolled his eyes. "I am not hungover." Actually, he looked very far from it, although he wasn't wearing the usual suit and tie she always saw him in. He was more casual in khakis and a long-sleeve shirt, but he still managed to look handsome.

She realized he had stopped talking and was watching her, his eyes sparkling. "Got something on your mind you'd like to share?"

Eve wanted to stomp her foot in frustration. "No, I _don't_. And, if you're here to take me home, that's fine." She started to stomp down the front steps, but turned and shook her finger at him. "But, no funny stuff."

He held up his hands. "Scout's honor."

"I bet you weren't even a Boy Scout."

"Nope, but the Girl Scouts always fascinated me. Always selling those cookies."

She opened her mouth to retort, then realized he was baiting her. So, she shut it quickly, not giving him the pleasure.

Frankly, she was glad he was there. For the ride. In his car.

It didn't take long for the car to warm up, and she wriggled her cold toes in her shoes to get the blood circulating.

"Warm enough?" he asked.

"Getting there."

"I never see you drive. Do you even have a car?"

Eve chose not to take offense, although it took an effort. "I have a truck that was my grandfather's, but I don't use it much. Mostly, I can walk or take the bus or subway."

"This time of year, it might be a good thing for you to drive. Safer that way."

She turned. "Since when are you worried about my safety?"

"I've always been worried about you, Eviegirl. You seem so . . .how shall I say it . . . innocent and sweet. Easy to take advantage of."

"By who? You?"

He rolled his eyes in the darkness of the car. "No. Not unless you want me to." He shot her a look that she could feel to her toes.

She chose not to comment, just study the soggy city rolling by. "I know you weren't just in the neighborhood on your night off. Don't you have a date or something?"

"Actually, I do."

_Ah ha. I thought so._ She tried to ignore the spurt of jealousy.

"With you." He pulled up to the curb at her apartment and looked at her expectantly.

Her eyes widened. _Back off, Eve. Stay away._

How come she knew what was best for her, yet she refused to follow it?

Something to think about later, that's for sure.

She grasped at excuses. "I hope you don't think I'm going back out in this weather. . ."

He reached in the back seat and came out with a large basket, interrupting her. "What's in the basket?"

"Just let me come up to your apartment, and I'll show you."

She crossed her arms. "And if I don't?"

"I didn't want to have to do this now, but if you insist . . ." He shoved the basket aside and pulled her to him, kissing her. Hard and insistently.

She was practically panting when he let her go. The car windows were even fogged.

He had to take a couple of deep breaths before he spoke. "Take your pick. What's in basket number one or behind bedroom door number two."

She didn't answer, just exited the car, not trusting herself to speak.

He took his cue and followed her, lugging the basket with him.

"What in the world is in that thing?" she asked as they rode the slow elevator.

"Patience, my dear. Patience."

Finally, the doors creaked open. She let him into the apartment, flicking on lights as she went.

She took off her coat and tossed it aside, looking at him. "So. Now what?"

"Now, you go in there . . ." he motioned towards her bedroom. "And wait. And don't sass me."

Eve stuck her tongue out at him, making him chuckle before she flounced into her bedroom, slamming the door. She flopped down on her bed, irritated and interested, all at the same time.

She could hear him shuffling in the living room and would have sworn he moved her couch. Resisting the urge to peek, she went into the bathroom to fix her make-up.

She was never flashy, her straight brown hair cut in a flattering style to frame her oval face, and her brown eyes being just that. Brown.

As she added more blush and eye shadow, then sprayed on some perfume, for once she wished she were flashy and blue-eyed and blonde. Maybe she'd have the gumption to go for whatever Dan had in mind.

She tossed that idea aside. Now use thinking about woulda-couldas now. She toyed with the idea of changing clothes, but her sensible black slacks and blue sweater were comfortable. Plus, the sweater showed a bit of cleavage. Although she didn't have much to begin with.

After brooding for a moment, she decided she was crazy.

_You're not supposed to care what he thinks, remember? He was nice enough to take you home and do whatever it is he's up to in there, then that's it._

Of course, the kisses were out of place in her orderly little synopsis.

Instead of trying to figure out what was going on in Dan Fielding's mind, she dropped it. Especially after she realized he had gotten quiet.

She tentatively walked to her bedroom door. "Are you finished in there?" She heard some shuffling.

"Just about." More shuffling. "OK. You can come out now."

"You're not standing in my living room naked are you?"

"No, I'm not standing in here naked." He paused. "Unless you want me to."

"God, no!"

He laughed.

_Well, here goes nothing._

She turned the knob slowly and opened the door. It was dark, except for several of her candles lit and sat in strategic locations.

She was speechless.

He had actually moved her furniture and spread her Gran's afghan in the middle of the floor. She moved closer to inspect. He had just about any food you could imagine laid out on it.

"Oh," was all she could manage. It was actually very . . . unDanlike. She was touched.

"Ta da!" He said, rather proud of himself, standing at the end of the blanket. "Come over here and sit down." He motioned across from him.

Eve thought that was safe enough. She sat down, crossing her legs in front of her, studying the wide array of selection. There was Italian and Chinese next to fried chicken and fruit. "This is a lot of food."

He settled down across from her. "I have to admit I didn't really know what your favorite main course was. Couldn't find anyone who knew, either. So, I thought I'd bring a little bit of everything."

She found herself smiling. "You didn't have to do all this."

"But, I wanted to." He returned her smile and handed one of her good China plates. "You first. Hope you're hungry."

She dipped a little bit of everything. "You know, I don't think I've ever had an indoor picnic."

"I was going to go for an outdoor one, but the weather didn't cooperate." He liked the way the candlelight shone in her hair. She caught him looking and smiled at him hesitantly.

Yep, this was a _damn_ good idea.


	13. Little Devil on Her Shoulder

They talked, Lord did they talk. After moving their way through the Moo Goo Gai Pan, they worked a bit on the lasagna before the fried chicken was attacked, as they laughed and told stories.

She pointed a chicken bone at him. "I never would have guessed you for a Shakespeare buff."

"Well, I never would have guessed you for a belly dancer."

"It's good exercise," she shrugged. She waited for him to make a suggestive comment, that's usually what men did, but he didn't.

_This evening just keeps getting better and better_.

"You know, I've had a good time tonight. You actually seem more . . .well, normal to me than I thought."

"I think that's a backhanded compliment, but I'll take it as a compliment just the same," he said. "But, now for dessert."

"Good Lord! I don't think I could anymore food!"

Dan stood up. "But, I know this is your favorite. I asked Harry."

"So, _that's_ why he kept asking me if I had any plans for tonight," she said more to herself than to him.

But, he didn't hear her, already rummaging around in her kitchen. He stopped, then cursed, slamming the door refrigerator door.

He stomped through the room. "I'll be right back. I knew I must have forgotten something." He started putting on his coat.

Eve jumped up. "Wait! We don't need anything else to eat!"

"I want this to be just right."

"But, it's raining outside! And it's 35 degrees!"

He motioned out the window. "It stopped raining awhile ago. I'll be right back."

"Let me go with you. There's an ice cream parlor across the street on the next block." She didn't know why she said it. She wasn't even hungry. But, she didn't want him to go.

He watched her merrily. "Afraid I won't come back, Eviegirl?"

_Actually, yes_. She colored, but protested. "No. I just thought, well, that . . ."

He draped her coat over her shoulders. "Come on. Before you change your mind."

It was still chilly outside, but he rain had stopped, leaving puddles scattered on the sidewalk. And, the ice cream parlor was empty this time of night, the bored kid behind the counter taking their order. They settled in a booth in the back.

"You know, I never would have taken you for a rocky road kind of girl," Dan said. "Maybe chocolate or vanilla, but not all mixed together like that."

"Geez, am I that boring?" she stopped eating long enough to ask.

He actually looked flustered. "No, not at all. It's just that . . . you're so . . . black and white with everything. Either it's right or it's wrong, and there's no in between."

She thought before she answered, licking her melting ice cream off the cone. "Appearances can be deceiving, you know. Maybe on the inside, I'm really a mad, rocky-road eating meanie who likes to mix up the whites and the colors when I do my wash."

He rolled his eyes and sipped his milk shake. "Mean, you ain't. Deceiving, maybe."

"After all this, you're calling me _names_? That might not get you very many brownie points, Dan."

"Not deceiving," he said hurriedly. "Just hard to figure out. For instance, you protest about not wanting to get involved with me, but then when I kiss you, it's like . . . well, like the Fourth of July."

She gave him a strange look.

"Don't look at me like that. You know what I'm talking about."

She had been lulled into complacency by their evening. Their talks got them no where near sex or relationships or anything. She thought about dumping her ice cream in his lap for a moment for ruining the evening by bringing it up.

"See? There you go. Getting that look on your face again that you'd like to do me bodily harm."

She bit into her cone to buy time. "If you can't figure me out, then I can't figure you out, either."

He watched her. "Oh? How so?"

She motioned around. "All this. The picnic and the ice cream and the wonderful conversation and the rides home in the rain. I find it hard to believe that if all of your one-night stands were this time-consuming, it wouldn't be worth your energy."

He sat his cup down with a thump. "Is that all you think?"

His reaction had her back-peddling. "Well . . . no. Of course not. But, it just seems like too much trouble to . . ."

He stood up abruptly, shoving his chair out of the way. The kid behind the counter just glanced over disinterestedly, then resumed his hand-held video game.

Dan tossed his trash in the proper receptacle and was heading for the door before Eve knew what was going on. "I didn't do all this to get you into bed. I did all this to prove to you that you're _more_ than that. So much for being myself," he said sarcastically before heading out the door.

He would have been lying to say he wasn't disappointed. He had tried so hard to make this a normal evening, a normal date.

And, all he got was insulted.

He pulled his collar up around his neck as the rain started falling.

* * *

The tone of their evening had taken a serious nose dive, and Eve scrambled to make up for it.

Dan was already halfway down the block before she gathered her senses followed. "Dan! Dan, wait up!"

Great. It was raining again. And, he didn't stop.

She sprinted to catch him, the rain pelting her in the face. She caught him in front of the building next door to hers, an under-construction job that was half-way completed. "Dan, stop! Please!"

She drug him to the relative dry area in the abandoned doorway of the building.

He just stared down at her, rain dripping from his face, shivering. "Want to insult me some more? Maybe, you should give me some pointers in the character department. Although, it seems to me that . . ."

"Shut up!"

"No, _you_ shut up! We wouldn't be in this mess if you . . ."

She didn't wait to see what he was going to say. Instead, she kissed him. Just like he had kissed her earlier.

And, boy was it ever good! That man could do things with his tongue that made her sweat, despite being soaked with a cold rain.

Whoever would have guessed that plain little ol' Evelyn Cantrell would be doing the tonsil tango in the doorway of an abandoned building in the middle of the night with the assistant district attorney of Manhattan?

Certainly not anyone back home, that's for sure.

When they finally came up for air, neither one of them was shivering from the cold anymore. Actually, Eve thought she needed to come out of a few layers.

_It's now or never, Eviegirl._

_Since when did I start calling myself Eviegirl?_

He searched her face, almost as if he could hear her talking to herself.

This time, she didn't hesitate.

They groped, felt, kissed and grabbed their way to her building. The elevator ride was the worst. He had her against the wall, and her clothing was suddenly looser than it was when they left. He had managed to undo her bra without her realizing it.

The barely made it into her apartment before they started flinging wet clothing in every direction in a trail to her bedroom.

For a moment, she thought he was going to throw her up against the bedroom door and take her right there. Not that she would have minded. No, siree, not one bit.

But, the minute he got her unclothed and in bed, he slowed down. _Way_ down. He was doing things to her with his mouth, working his way from her neck down, that she thought would never in a million years make her moan and pant like an animal.

But, it did.

She didn't think about how he learned those things. She didn't think about all the women before her, or all the ones that would surely come after her. She didn't even think about tomorrow morning.

When he finally entered her, all she could think about was the here and now.

Neither one of them lasted long, Eve practically biting his shoulder to keep from crying out his name as she climaxed.

It was even better than she would have ever thought.

They collapsed in a heap on the bed, both trying to catch their breath.

They lay in a tangle of sheets for the longest time, him on his stomach with his arm thrown over her and her on her back. She absently ran her hands along the length of his arm as she enjoyed the afterglow of their lovemaking.

She felt him stir next to her and glanced over. He had propped himself up with his left arm and was watching her with those smoky eyes of his. Surprisingly, she felt stirrings in the pit of her stomach.

Now, that never happened so soon afterwards.

"What?" she asked, trying to figure out why she was not self-conscious. She was always self-aware after sex, but with Dan, she just wanted to lay there and bask.

"You are truly amazing, you know that?" he said, a small smile on his lips. "I never would have taken you for a sex fiend."

"Disappointed?"

"Not a bit." He used his arm still draped across her chest to pull her against him. "In fact, I thought you had a little devil in you all along."

She reached up to kiss his neck, nibbling along the way. _God, he smelt so good._ She was rewarded with a shiver from him, as well as responses in other places. She pressed against him harder.

"Eviegirl," he gasped. "I don't know . . ."

Quick as a cat, she was on top of him. "Well, I _do_ know. Now, it's your turn."

* * *

Dan always enjoyed sex, some instances more than others.

But, Eve was downright better than enjoyable. It was awesome. Amazing. Stupendous.

Not that he ever doubted it would be.

He had never had a problem with stamina, either, but he almost couldn't keep up with her. By the next day, the room was littered with clothing, sheets and condom wrappers. And, he didn't think he'd ever walk again.

But, when he heard her start the shower, he decided he was up for a little more.

Apparently, she liked shower sex as much as he did.

Another little interesting tidbit of information.

An hour later, their shower finished, they stood in the living room under the disapproving eye of Moses.

"Well, looks like no leftovers for us." She toed the remains of the lasagna, which had suspicious cat fang marks in it.

"You don't reckon it will hurt him, do you?" That's all he needed. To kill her cat.

She shrugged and started picking up dishes. "He was eating out of trash cans when I found him. So, I think he'll be fine." He helped her carry the remnants of their picnic into the kitchen, then leaned against the counter watching her as she cleaned.

Her hair, still wet from their shower, curled at the ends, and he reached out and wrapped one strand around his finger as she washed.

"What are you doing?" she asked, rinsing off a plate.

"Just watching you."

She hoped she didn't look as embarrassed as she felt. She usually wasn't so voracious in the bedroom, but he brought out a side of her she didn't know existed. It was a little embarrassing to face in the daylight.

And, if he kept playing with her hair like that, she was going to haul him in there again.

"I just can't get over last night. And this morning. And around lunchtime."

She looked at her watch. "Good _Lord_, it's almost 3 o'clock! I've got to be at work in a little while." Where did the time get to?

Oh, but it was well worth it.

He started kissing her neck again as she was drying. She dropped her sponge in the soapy water and rotated her neck, so he could get a better angle.

"God, Dan, you're going to kill me, you know?"

"Me kill you? I think I'm going to have to go through therapy. Call in sick."

She tried to shake her head with him nibbling her neck. "No. Can't. Got another review tonight."

His hands moved up her shirt. "A review? What's to review? You type what is said. End of story."

She shuddered when he started playing with her nipple. "Don't you have to work tonight too?"

"I'll call in sick." Just the smell of her was making him horny as hell, which was surprising, since he thought he didn't have anything left.

"Dan?"

He almost had her. He could tell. He eyed the kitchen table, deciding it could hold them up. "What?"

"Go home." But, she made no move to make him stop.

"How can I work with you sitting at that stenotype, all prim and proper, when just this morning you were . . ."

"Watch it, bud." Deftly, she worked her way away from him, giggling at the pout on his face. "You've got to go home. For one thing, I've got to take a nap. That will _not_ happen with you here."

"Fine. I'll go home," he brightened. "Can I come back tonight?"

"We'll see."

He reached for her again. "You've got me hooked now. You can't cut me off!"

She started to protest, but all he did was pull her to him and hold her, his chin propped on top of her head.

Eve sighed. This was just as nice.

Although the little devil on her shoulders was saying, 'Enjoy it while you can, hon!'

He kissed her forehead again. "You win. See you tonight, Eviegirl."

He winked at her before he shut the front door behind him.

All Eve could do was stand there and grin stupidly.


	14. Googly Eyes

Dan was whistling when he sauntered into the courtroom. "Hiya, gang! Lovely evening, isn't it?"

Mac looked up from his files and eyed him suspiciously as Dan tossed his briefcase on the table, still smiling and whistling to himself. He leaned towards Roz and Bull. "Boy, he's sure in a good mood."

"Yeah, wonder what's gotten into him?" Bull echoed watching Dan carefully.

Dan's eyes lit up at someone walking in the door.

It was Eve. And she had just as stupid a look on her face.

"There's your answer right there," Roz harrumphed, crossing her arms in an annoying posture as Eve and Dan grinned at each other like idiots. He whispered something in her ear familiarly, and color crept up her neck to her face.

Roz wanted to make it clear that she did _not_ approve!

Someone cleared his throat, and Bull took a large step to his place underneath the light fixture, which looked like it was sprouting from his head.

Harry didn't like to be kept waiting.

"All rise." Bull repeated the drill just like he did every night.

Council approached the bench, Dan still grinning like a banshee. "Ah, my dear Miss Sullivan. You're looking rather lovely today, you know?"

Christine eyed him carefully, wondering what he was up to. "Thanks, Dan. I think. And, you're looking mighty . . .happy."

Dan stuck the file for the first case under his arm as he adjusted his tie. "Why shouldn't I be? I have a wonderful job, wonderful co-workers, aaannndd . . ." He nudged Eve's chair with his foot instead of finishing his sentence.

Eve's smile she gave him in return was a dead giveaway.

Harry looked from his prosecutor to his court clerk and back. "I guess you had plans last night after all, didn't you, Miss Cantrell?"

Eve knew she was blushing.

Mack finally caught on. "Oh, my good _Lord_! Are you telling me that you," he pointed at Eve, "and you," he pointed at Dan, "are . . .did . . ."

"That, Mr. Robinson, is none of your business." Dan couldn't quite hide the gleam in his eye. Eve bit her lip, looking anywhere but at the people crowded around Harry's bench.

"I warned her," Roz leaned over and whispered to Bull. "It's like Beauty and the Beast, only the beast is . . ."

"Dan," Bull finished with a shudder. "Hope she knows what she's doing."

Roz thought about what she knew, what Dan had done to Josh in the bar her uncle worked at. "You know, it might not be so bad after all," she admitted grudgingly.

All Bull could do was stare at his friend and fellow bailiff in shock.

* * *

"How in the world are you functioning on so little sleep?" Lynette folded a towel and set it beside her.

Eve reached in the basket and pulled out another towel, balancing Billy on her knee. "Let me tell you, it's hard to stay awake during the boring cases."

Lynette reached out and tickled Billy's feet, making him grin. "But, let me guess? When court is over, it's easy to forget how tired you are."

"Right-o." She colored a bit. "Who's to say we wait until court is over? We do have recess, you know."

Lynette's mouth hung open, and Eve had to laugh aloud at the look on her friend's face.

Billy started fussing, so Eve stood up and jiggled him on her hip, humming as she picked up a stack of Lynette's laundry to put in the linen closet. She always came over on Tuesday night's, Lynette's off night from school, and helped her with her chores. Dan wasn't too happy about it, but she couldn't see him every night.

Although she wanted to.

But, Lynette wasn't finished pumping her for information. She was still sitting expectantly on the couch. "So?"

"So, what?"

"I'm assuming it must be good."

"What must be good?" Eve pretended not to know what she was talking about.

"I've seen the two of you get out of the elevator like you weren't going to make it to your place."

Eve colored, making Lynette laugh. Billy giggled along with them. "I didn't know we were that obvious."

"Oh, honey, you're not. It's just so sweet to see two people so in love."

Eve picked at a string on a towel still in the basket. "Well, um . . . the 'l' word hasn't exactly been spoken yet."

Lynette stared at her thoughtfully. "I've seen the way that man looks at you, and honey, it's not just physical." She reached out and took Billy from her. "Oops. I smell somebody's diaper. Time for changies."

Eve chose that moment to slip away. "I've got to finish some things myself. I'll see you later, OK?"

"'Kay," Lynette answered around the pins in her mouth.

Eve let herself out and unlocked the door to her apartment. As it had been for the last several months, it was a wreck. She didn't have time to clean. All her free time was spent with Dan. And not just sex, although that was a big part of it. They went to plays and parties and restaurants and walks in Central Park.

And the lovemaking. Oh, _boy_! It seemed they couldn't get enough of each other.

Sometimes, she'd wake up in the middle of the night, and he'd be propped up on one arm, watching her. She'd always ask him if something was wrong. He'd always deny it.

She liked that she affected him like she did. It gave her a power she didn't know she had.

For once, she was truly happy. And it scared her a bit. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Dan didn't usually keep a woman around this long, a fact Roz never stopped pointing out to her, so he would tire of her eventually, wouldn't he?

She was pretty far gone. She just didn't want him to know it. That way, when he did end it, she would still have enough of her pride left to hold her head up and face him day after day.

Moses came stomping out from behind the couch. Even her cat looked unkempt. She scratched behind his ears. "Poor dear. You're neglected, too, aren't you?"

He pawed at her hand, claws extended, and stomped back behind the couch.

* * *

Dan saw her walking down the hall and leaned against the wall to watch. She and Roz were huddled together discussing something, no telling what with those two. Probably, Roz was on a tear, telling her that she needed to back off with him.

Roz was never his biggest cheerleader.

Eve laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear. He could hear it from here. Tonight, she was wearing a fitting red blouse with black pants. She stopped in the hallway to face Roz, and he admired her behind.

How was it she had him so bewitched? He hadn't so much as looked at another woman since they'd been seeing each other, and he didn't miss it. Not a bit. Although, some of his former suitors tried their best to convince him otherwise.

But, he was plain not interested. In such a short time, Eve had become all he needed. He never told her. He didn't know how. He didn't want to sound like one of those hokey Hallmark cards.

He tried to show her by giving her little gifts and trying to be as thoughtful as he could manage. While always grateful, he didn't know if she realized it for what it was.

She caught him watching and her eyes lit up. He winked at her, and she flushed.

She was always so cute when she was blushing. She also got that flushed look on her face right before . . .

"Danny, boy, you have got it _bad_."

Dan jumped. "Good grief, Harry! You need a cow bell around your neck."

"Caught you deep in thought, huh?"

"You can say that."

"So, how's it been going?" He motioned at Roz and Eve still deep in discussion. "With Eve."

"Oh, uh, fine. Just fine."

"What does this make? Two months? Isn't that some sort of record?"

"Oh, ha, ha."

Harry smiled. "I like her. She's cute. She suits you, Dan, she really does."

"You really think so?"

Harry laughed at Dan's lovesick expression. "So, any big plans?"

"You mean beyond the big fundraiser we're going to tomorrow night? Nope." He didn't mention the ring he had been carrying around for a week. None of Harry's business. And, he wasn't even going to ask her. It was just nice to feel the little box in his pocket, knowing he could if he wanted.

Not that she'd say yes. She wasn't clingy, like he'd expected. Actually, he was probably clingier than she was. But, she didn't seem to mind. He just couldn't stand being away from her, spending more nights at her place than his own. He practically lived over there most of the time. Even her cat had started tolerating him.

"Earth to Dan. Lost you there, buddy."

"Oh! Um . . . sorry. Just thinking."

"Must have been nice. You had this contented expression on your face."

Dan cleared this throat. "Don't be silly."

"Hey, guys," Roz interrupted. "How's it going?"

Eve stood beside him and put her hand in his. She smiled up at him for a moment.

Dan figured he could die happy right now.

"Hi, Roz. You and Eve sure were thick as thieves over there," Harry said.

"We're going shopping tomorrow. For a dress for some fancy-smancy thing she's going to with Dan."

"Yeah, I thought I'd splurge. I deserve it."

"For putting up with Dan, they oughtta make you a saint," Roz muttered. She liked to see her friend happy, but she was afraid Dan was going to be up to his old tricks again.

"Oh, c'mon Roz. You were just saying how sweet Dan's been lately."

Roz made a face. "It's nauseating to see you two. Making googly-eyes at each other in court. Holding hands at dinner. Disgusting stuff."

Dan didn't care what they said. Any of them. He knew Roz thought he was just playing around. Something told him Eve might think that, too. She'd get a sad look on her face sometimes that he couldn't explain.

Well, he'd show them. He'd show them all.


	15. A Fancy Term for Escaping

I apologize if my section breaks aren't appearing in the chapters. It seems that someone (me) has decided to put in the chapter breaks and not press the magic "save" button at the bottom. I'll try harder next time. Ciao - tonygirl

"Next case, Mac."

"_People vs. Underwood, sir_." Everyone looked up at the new defendant, this time, an older gentleman who probably hadn't bathed in a _really_ long time. "Vagrancy charge."

"OK, what's the story?"

"I was just sleeping at the park, just like I always have, mindin' my own business, when these two men came up and took me to jail. I didn't hurt nobody. I ain't ever hurt nothin'."

"Except for maybe our sense of smell," Dan fanned the file in front of his face.

Even Christine looked uncomfortable. "Mr. Underwood has had a run of bad luck lately, sir . . ."

"Yeah, probably since Nixon was in office."

She gave Dan a dirty look, but still wouldn't get closer to the client. "Defense requests suspending of sentence."

Harry shrugged. "Seems harmless enough. Penalty is time served. Go find you a nice soup kitchen, sir."

"Will do. Thank you kindly, Judge."

Harry banged his gavel. "Case dismissed. Is that it, Mac?"

"All we got tonight, sir. But, I'm sure glad nothing came up that required Bellview's assistance tonight."

"Why's that?"

Mac handed Harry a sheet of paper. "Seems they've had some patients 'take their leave' of the place lately. They're so busy trying to up security that new cases are getting pushed to the wayside."

Harry studied the press release for a moment before handing it back. "I guess 'take their leave' is a fancy term for 'escaping.'"

"My sentiments exactly, sir."

Harry banged his gavel. "Well, time to call it a night."

Eve was waiting expectantly for Harry to end the session. She was going to need all the time she could to get ready. The minute his gavel hit the bench, she was off.

Roz and Christine were close behind. Roz offered to do her hair and make-up, and Christine just wanted to watch.

Bull was standing at the door of the restroom with her garment bag and a tote full of anything she could think of that she might need, including extra panty hose. She took it from him as she went in, not stopping for long. "Thanks, Bull."

"You're welcome."

He crossed his arms as she went in, ready to stand guard. Anyone who even looked like they were going into the restroom, he glared at her until she changed her mind. Eve said she might need the entire restroom, so the entire restroom she would have.

She was already in a stall tossing clothes here and there when Roz and Christine entered.

"How's it going?"

Eve made a face at the contraption of a bra she had to wear underneath the gown. "I'm trying to figure out what in the world I was thinking when I bought a gown with spaghetti straps."

"It looked good. All women want to look good." Roz was laying out make up brushes and plugging in curling irons as she talked.

"Boy, I can't wait to see this dress! Roz said it looked like it came straight out of a magazine," Christine said. She was always one for dressing up. "I can't believe you got such a good deal on it."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't a good enough deal that I could buy a wrap to go with it. Lynette let me borrow one of hers," Eve struggled to zip it in the back. "Hey, can one of you guys help me with this?"

She jettisoned out of the stall.

"Ooo, that's a pretty color on you." Christine zipped her up. "Dan will love it."

Eve looked at herself in the mirror, adjusting the straps on the pale pink dress. It was a little too low for her taste, showing more cleavage than she would have liked. Of course, the massive push-up bra of Lynette's assisted with that. But, the color did bring out something in her skin tone, made her look almost glowing. "You really think he'll like it?" She caught herself. "Not that I bought it for that. It's just that . . ."

"Yes, you did. Don't lie," Roz immediately started in on her hair.

Eve colored, but kept still as Christine watched, offering pointers here and there.

Eve couldn't keep it to herself any longer. "I'm nervous."

"Nervous? For goodness sakes, _why_?" Roz pined up an errant strand of hair, working on the ringlets down her back. "Honey, your straight hair is harder to curl than Bull's would be."

"Gee, thanks, Roz. This is a _big_ deal. The district attorney is putting it on for some hot shot to raise money for some boy's club or something. This is important to Dan, and I want to make a good impression. That's all. I just hope . . . well, I don't want to make a fool of myself. Or Dan."

"I think Dan's done a fantastic job of making a fool of his own self," Christine said, pushing Eve's matching shoes over to her with her foot. "Don't worry about it. It'll just be a bunch of boring old fuddy-duddies talking about the same old things all night. You'll be so bored, it'll be a relief to get out of there."

"Sounds like you've done this before."

"Harry and I go to a few. But, it's not quite up to Harry's style."

"I imagine 'fuddy-duddy' and 'Harry' are not two words uttered in the same sentence very often."

"Not often," Christine smiled.

"I think the two of you are so cute together. What do you think, Roz?"

Roz decided she was happy with Eve's hair and nodded once. "Sure. Cute as a basket full of Rottweilers."

Eve and Christine's gazes met, and they stifled laughter. Roz wasn't nearly as harsh as she sounded.

"I have to admit, I never thought I'd see the day when Dan Fielding was a one-woman man," Christine added. "He is? Isn't he?"

Eve had given that some thought. A lot of thought. They had never discussed it. "I guess so."

Roz sat her down on a stool brought in for that purpose and started applying base. "You _guess_? The two of you have been thick as thieves lately, and you can only _guess_?"

Eve kept very still as Roz worked. "Well, it just hasn't come up. We don't talk about 'us' that much, and maybe we should. But, we spend so much time together, I find it hard to believe he could be up to something."

Roz shook her head. "You two have the strangest relationship."

"Yeah," Christine chimed in. "Both of you are so busy pretending to be aloof that you almost totally miss the point that you are both in love."

"I don't know . . ." Eve trailed off. She was a little bit uncomfortable having this conversation. Hell, she couldn't even bring it up with Dan!

"Trust me. That man is _in love_," Christine said. "I've never seen any man light up like he does when you walk into the room."

"Disgusting," Roz muttered. "No grown man should be making cow eyes like that."

"Oh, c'mon, Roz," Christine started. "Haven't you ever been in love?"

Roz stood back to admire her make-up job, touching up Eve's blush. "Once. I don't recommend it." She was finally finished. "OK. Now you can look."

Eve turned to face the mirror. "Oh, _wow_! I don't even look like myself!"

Roz had done a fantastic job. While Eve normally just slapped on some make-up before she left her place, Roz made applying it look like an art form. Her face didn't seem so oblong, and her eye make-up was to die for, flattering her brown eyes to the point they actually looked something other than just plain brown.

And her hair! She never thought she would be capable of ringlets, but Roz had pulled her hair half-way up, curling it and leaving some strands to fall by the side of her face.

Eve turned her head this way and that to get the full effect. "Roz, you are absolutely amazing. If you ever decide to do this for a living . . ."

Roz held up her hand. "Not gonna happen. We've had this conversation before, remember?"

Eve couldn't help herself. She threw her arms around Roz's neck. "Thanks! For all this."

Roz was a little taken aback and pat her on the back absently. "You better let go, or you'll ruin your dress."

"At least, don't ruin it before Dan gets it off you," Christine pointed out with a grin.

* * *

"What's taking her so long?" Dan complained, pacing back-and-forth in Harry's office.

Harry was lounged behind his desk. "Why don't you go see what the hold-up is?"

"I tried. But, Bull almost picked me up and threw me down the hall."

"Standing guard?"

"Apparently."

"Bull takes guard duty seriously. And, if you don't stop pacing, you're going to wear a hole in my rug."

Dan gave his friend and dirty look, but stopped, perching uncomfortably in the window.

Harry played with a slinky on his desk, running it back and forth. "I don't see what you have to be so nervous about. You go to these things all the time."

Dan stood, adjusting the vest and jacket of his tux using his reflection. "I'm not nervous. It's just that . . .well I've never . . ."

"You're looking forward to this, aren't you? Never taken her to a fancy party before, and you're actually excited about it. Want to show her off some."

"It never ceases to amaze me that you can figure those things out."

Harry shrugged. "Just a guess. You watch people for as long as I have, and you get lucky sometimes."

Dan put his hand in his pocket and wrapped his fingers around the ring box. Maybe, if tonight was the night, and if everything went like he wanted it to . . .

Roz and Christine barged inside, jerking him back to reality.

The reality where he was not quite sure what exactly he wanted, but it was fun to pretend he did.

"It's about damn time! We're going to be late!"

Roz shook her finger at him. "Hey, buddy. You can't mess with perfection."

He ignored her baiting. "Well? Where is she? I can't wait all . . ."

Eve, practically dwarfed on Bull's arm, chose that moment to enter, and Dan trailed off.

Beautiful didn't even begin to describe her. He thought her sexy even in just his shirt, but this . . . well, this was a whole new Eve.

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to comment.

Christine elbowed Roz. "Look at his face!" she whispered.

Roz just scowled.

He swallowed. "Wow," was all he could manage.

"You like it?"

"Uh . . . yeah. _Hell_, yeah."

She looked pleased.

"OK, you two. Time to get going," Harry interrupted.

Dan wrapped her shawl over her shoulders, his fingers dancing lately on her bare skin before he let it go.

Eve could barely suppress a shiver of delight.

Tonight was going to be fun.

* * *

The man followed the Mercedes, making sure he paid the cabby good to keep up with it. When the fancy car pulled into a parking deck, he got out of the cab on the street. He even passed him on the walkway with some cute little dame as they jabbered away, totally taken with each other.

He didn't even look like he recognized him.

That was fine. That was how it should be.

He finally found the Mercedes on the third level. And crouched in the shadows to wait.

He had all night.

* * *

See markaleen? I TOLD you I couldn't be sweet for long ;-) - tonygirl


	16. You Were Always a Nasty Attorney

It really wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. The food was excellent, and she thanked her lucky stars that Gran made her take ballroom dancing lessons. Dan was often dragged away to talk politics and such, but most of the women were polite, and Eve felt she carried her end of the conversation very well.

However, she procured dirty looks from more than a few of them, and she even caught a couple fawning all over Dan.

She tried not to let it bother her. By now, she knew what to expect. Where ever they went some hot-to-trot woman would almost break her neck getting to Dan, ignoring Eve in the process.

But, what could she do? Past was past.

The most she could hope for was that it still was.

Eve even danced with a few other men, feeling almost like a fairy princess the way they fawned all over her.

She found it interesting that she never danced more than one set with someone else before Dan cut in.

"Boy, he was practically drooling all over you," Dan said about her previous partner as she fell into step with him.

"About like you're doing now?" she teased.

"But, I have a right to. You're my date."

She felt the now-familiar stirrings deep inside. "Since you've abandoned me to my own devices, I have found I don't want to sit on the side-lines with the old ladies and cluck over all the scantily clad hussies in the room and how close they are dancing."

"You mean, like this?" He pulled her closer than propriety dared. She could tell he was having the same reaction to her as she was to him.

"You better let me go just a tad. Don't want to scandalize anyone."

Dan rolled his eyes and kept her right where he wanted her, his hand on her back. "If I want to dance this close to the prettiest girl in the room, I will."

"You are so full of it sometimes, you know."

He pretended to be shocked. "It's true. More than once, I've heard some of the guys wonder who the gal in the beautiful dress was and if she was taken."

Eve was actually pleased, but she didn't want him to know it. "Pshaw. I'm more of the wallflower type. Always have been."

He smiled down at her. "Not to me, Eviegirl. Not to me."

* * *

The night was chilly for late spring, and Eve was glad she had borrowed Lynette's gold-fringed shawl to throw over her shoulders.

Dan had finally declared he had had enough of working the room and whispered a suggestion in her ear that she just couldn't refuse. They had immediately headed to the door.

He held her hand lightly as they exited the elevator, holding onto his coat thrown over his shoulder with the other. There were only a few cars left on this level this late at night, probably late attendees of the same party. The parking deck was lit in spots, but shadowy in places. No different from any other parking deck across town.

"So, how did it go? You get enough politicking in to last awhile?"

He shrugged. "If you've gone to one of these things, you've gone to them all. But, it never hurts to make yourself known."

"Do you want the district attorney position after this current guy retires?"

He didn't hesitate to answer, reaching in his pocket for his keys. "I do. Very much."

"Will he retire anytime soon?"

"Not really," Dan made a face. "The short bastard will probably live to 103."

Eve squeezed his arm. "If you're meant to have it, you'll get it."

He turned to study her profile as they walked. That's what he loved about her. She didn't sweat the small stuff or worry about things she couldn't change.

And, yes, he said 'loved'. Dammit, he was in love with Evelyn Cantrell!

Eve's gasp of surprise was the first inclination that something was wrong. She halted immediately and with her arm wrapped in his, he did, too.

Dan looked up to see what had her so startled.

The short, balding man had materialized out of no where in the almost-empty parking deck. He was wearing a threadbare trench coat, his hands buried deep in his pockets.

Dan figured it was just another vagrant, but this man was between him and his car.

"Excuse us," Dan said a little haughtily.

He didn't move, just studying him with strangely dead-looking eyes. "You don't remember me, do you?" the man finally said in a reedy voice.

Dan didn't study him that closely. "Ahh, no. I'm sure we've never met."

The man chuckled without any humor. "That figures. You were always a nasty attorney."

* * *

Eve had learned to rely on her intuition about people since living alone in New York. And, she didn't like the looks of this guy. He was . . . sinister. And his comment to Dan triggered something in her memory.

_Bellview. _

_Mac said something about Bellview_.

Alarmed, she let go of Dan's arm and looked at him. "Dan, isn't that . . ."

She trailed off when his eyes widened, but didn't have time to figure out why.

Something was niggling at Dan's memory.

But, as Eve was speaking, her voice apprehensive, the man pulled a .45, quick as a cat.

Just like he snatched that gun from Roz.

Reacting without thinking, Dan shoved Eve away, hopefully to safety, as Stiles fired the weapon. Twice. It echoed throughout the concrete facility.

Dan stumbled backwards, and for one moment, he thought Stiles had missed. Firing blanks or something strange like that. There was no pain, nothing like what he thought it would be.

But, something just wasn't right.

He put his hands on his chest and looked down.

They were covered in blood.

The pain struck him then, dropping him immediately to his knees.

* * *

Eve knew something awful was descending even before he pushed her aside.

As she fell into a pillar, turning to break her fall, scraping her hands against the rough concrete, the gunshots echoed through the parking deck.

She whipped around awkwardly as the echo died away, the concrete post cold against her back.

In horror, she watched as Dan sank to the ground, staring incomprehensively at the blood staining his hands.

Stiles just stood there, watching in morbid satisfaction.

It was automatic. She almost couldn't control it. She screamed, the sound echoing eerily off the walls.

* * *

Each breath pulsated through his body. Seared through him like a hot knife.

Something was wrong. Bad wrong. Hell, the blood would attest to that!

He thought he heard a scream, and wondered at first if it was him. But, he couldn't breathe, let alone scream.

He wanted to curl up into a ball against the horrendous pain.

He coughed once and the copper taste of blood welled in his throat.

That man. Stiles. He was still there.

As he lay wheezing on the ground, Dan managed to focus on him. Stiles had a look of pure satisfaction on his face, the gun still in his outstretched hand.

He tried desperately to inch away, but his body wouldn't respond. All he could do was watch him getting closer and closer, his vision hazier by the moment.

Stiles enjoyed this far too much.

"I should have finished you off in the courtroom when I had a chance. Put you out of your misery." His voice was flat, unfeeling.

Dan opened his mouth to say something, anything. But, instead, he choked on his own blood.

* * *

It all happened in seconds, but it took Eve a moment to comprehend what was going on. The scream that erupted from her throat was purely involuntary, but didn't even seem to faze Stiles.

_That was his name, wasn't it? Stiles?_

Stiles said something, something about finishing Dan off.

He was lying there, several feet away, his chest oozing bright red blood. But, he was still alive. She saw his feeble movements, could tell he was trying to say something, but she couldn't hear it through the pounding in her head.

She launched herself forward unconsciously, ignoring the danger she was putting herself in.

"Stop it! _Stop it_!" Although it was only a short distance, she practically tripped on her dress and fell across Dan. Sobbing, her fingers felt frantically on his chest, now totally saturated with blood. Without thinking, she tore off her shawl and pressed it against the wounds, trying desperately to do something.

His hand, slick with blood, frantically reached for hers.

"You'll be OK. You'll be fine," she heard herself say in a shaky voice, despite the fact she honestly didn't know if she believed it.

They had been discussing his future as a district attorney, enjoying each other's company after a wonderful evening, and the next moment . . .

He was dying.

* * *

Dan could see Stiles. Then, he couldn't.

_Am I dead? Is this it?_

No. He could hear her talking, sounding so far away. Could smell her perfume. Her hands were on him, searching, pressing. He tried to hold them still, but found he didn't have enough strength for even the slightest pressure.

He coughed again, the throbbing intensifying with each shallow breath he tried to take.

"Don't you die on me. You hear me?" Her voice was shaky, terrified, frantic.

He tried to say her name, but couldn't. He tried to warn her away. This man would kill them both. She should run, hide, do anything to get away.

But, he couldn't.

* * *

Stiles had forgotten all about the dame. Her sudden appearance made him stop his approach. He watched her curiously as she nervously tried to stop the flow of blood.

"Move," he ordered quietly.

"No, god_damn_ it! You've hurt him enough! He's _dying_!"

Recognition hit. "You smiled at me that day, before my trial. You were nice. Too nice to be with this nasty man." His smile faded as he thought for a moment. "But, you hit me over the head with that chair." He aimed the pistol again. "You'll have to be punished for that."

* * *

Dan couldn't see, but not because Eve was in his line of vision. She was still there. He could hear her sobbing quietly.

She was right. He _was _dying, his body shutting down at this attack on his person.

It was strange. He could still reason, could still hear and want to respond to what was going on around him. But, he couldn't . . .wait a minute.

Stiles spoke. Something about punishing her.

He was going to shoot her, too.

Feebly, Dan tried to get her attention, pulling listlessly at her dress. He couldn't see it, but he could feel the fabric at his fingertips.

Eve saw Stiles point the weapon at her.

She knew she should be scared. It never even crossed her mind to flee. There was no way she was going to leave Dan here alone.

Balling her fists into Dan's blood-soaked shirt, she turned away from Stiles and his gun, knowing what was going to happen, but not wanting to witness her own demise.

Her eyes met Dan's. His eyes that she had seen so full of life, now full of nothing but pain. And fear.

_He's dying. And, there's absolutely nothing you can do about it._

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, ever fiber in her body tensed for the shot, and buried her face in his neck.

Underneath the copper penny whiff of blood and death, she could still smell his cologne.

That thought alone made her sob.

The sound of sirens pierced the air, but she didn't hear them. All she was waiting for was Stiles' final shot.

* * *

She was still there. Dan could feel her, her whole body shaking against his.

But, it was quiet. Deadly quiet.

The shot he had been dreading, the one he was trying to warn her of, pierced the silence.

And then . . . nothing.

* * *

Tonygirl here. And, yes, I'm cruel. ;-) To make it worse, I may wait a few days before I post the next chapter - which may or may not be any better on our characters here! Bwahahahaha!


	17. Random Acts of Unneccessary Violence

Eve jumped, tensed for the coming pain.

There was none.

She heard a clank, then a thud and raised her head.

Stiles had collapsed where he stood in a heap, mere inches from them, the gun skittering underneath Dan's car.

Panicked, she looked around. And saw a man, his gun still drawn, coming towards them.

She didn't know who he was. And, she really didn't care.

"Miss? Miss, are you alright? There's an ambulance on the way." He was an off-duty police officer, hired for security for the night. She vaguely remembered seeing him when they arrived, standing near the elevator.

But, she ignored him.

"Dan? Dan, damn you, _answer me_!" She shook him once, her fingers still tangled in the fabric of his shirt.

He didn't respond, his face as pale and drawn as death itself.

"Dan? Open your eyes! _Look_ at me!" She tried not to yell, but she couldn't control it. She had lost the ability to reason, to think beyond the fact that he was dying. If he wasn't dead already.

That thought practically ripped the heart right out of her chest.

_No. That's not possible. I _refuse_ to believe it._

The wail of sirens almost deafened her as the ambulance screeched to a halt nearby.

"Ma'am? Ma'am, you've got to move, so we can work. Ma'am?"

She ignored them. She didn't want to let him go. If she let him go, he might be gone for good.

Strange hands picked her up from the cold ground, pulling her away from him. They had to disentangle her fingers from his now totally blood-soaked shirt.

He was immediately surrounded by paramedics.

"That man. He shot him," she kept saying over and over as hands held onto her, trying to sooth her.

"Shhh, honey. Everything will be OK."

Eve looked around wild-eyed. She vaguely recognized this woman, an older lady from the party. City councilman's wife. That's it. But, her name eluded her. But one thing was for sure, she looked just as scared as Eve felt.

Eve started shivering so badly, her teeth hurt. And not from the cold. Someone draped something over her shoulders, and she clutched at the coat automatically, her eyes never leaving the paramedics working on Dan. He still looked so pale, the blood a contrast to his white skin.

They had loaded him onto a stretcher by now and were rushing it towards the open ambulance doors.

_They were taking him away._

Eve broke away to follow.

One of the paramedics tried to stop her. "No passengers allowed. City policy."

That was about all she could take.

She shoved by him and started to get inside. He grabbed her around the waist, a little shocked. "I'm sorry, ma'am . . ."

She wrenched herself out of his grasp and stood on tip-toe to get in his face. "I am _not_ leaving him, you hear me? I am _not_! You, nor the entire city of New York, is going to stop me! Throw me in jail later, but I am getting _on this ambulance_!"

This time, he didn't stop her from climbing aboard.

"He'll probably code on the way over," his partner whispered.

The guy just shook his head and climbed aboard behind her. The ambulance took off before he shut the door.

* * *

Eve huddled in a corner, watching them work, as they rocketed into the night. Her burst of anger at the paramedics left her drained. Her mind fought to remember that this figure covered in blood in front of her was Dan. Her lover. Her friend.

_Let them work, Eviegirl. Don't get in the way._

"Pressure?"

"90 over 40. Dropping fast."

"I think he's got a collapsed lung."

"But, all this blood. Must have gotten an artery."

"Goddamnit, I can't find a vein. Give me that needle."

"Frank, he's not breathing. Starting compressions."

"Poor bastard. That guy was a good shot."

The guy who tried to stop her from boarding shushed his partner. He motioned in Eve's direction.

All she did was watch, her eyes wide.

* * *

The harsh light of the hospital was a shock to her already overworked system. No one questioned her presence as she got off the ambulance. Nurses and doctors took over, hauling his stretcher inside, one of the paramedics on top still doing compressions.

Eve didn't notice the horror on the faces of those waiting inside with simple maladies that could be fixed so easily, with the looks of pity that soon followed. She silently followed the stretcher through the bright lobby and down a hall, doctors issuing orders left and right.

A hand stopped her before she followed them into a room full of sharp instruments and intimidating machines.

She tried to jerk away.

"You can't go in there. Just sit out here for a moment."

"He might . . . he's going to . . ." Tears streaked her face as she tried to peer in the windows at the staff working on him diligently, their faces grim.

"You'll do him more good out here than in there getting in the way," the nurse's soothing voice got through to her, somehow.

Trying to catch her breath, Eve allowed herself to be led into a room. It was empty. And dark.

The nurse sat her in a chair. "Let's get you cleaned up, OK?"

"But . . ."

"No buts. I want to make sure you aren't injured."

"Me?" Eve was confused.

The nurse looked at her with compassion. "Hon. Is there someone we can call?"

Her mind, a jumbled mess, struggled to find someone. "Call Harry Stone. Judge Harry Stone." For the life of her, she couldn't tell them anything else. Her mind wasn't firing on all cylinders. And what was this about her being hurt?

She looked down.

That's when she noticed it.

Underneath the coat someone had draped over her shoulders, the front of her dress was smeared with blood.

Her hands and arms where she had tried fruitlessly to stop it were sticky, too.

She was going to be sick.

The nurse, a multi-year veteran of bar fights, gang brawls and other random acts of unnecessary violence, saw it coming. She had the bed pan ready.

Eve vomited until she thought she was going to pass out.

The nurse patted her shoulder quietly, taking the pan from her when she was done.

Then, she made her sit back. "Let's get you cleaned up some."

The nurses. The doctors. The blood. Dan.

_He's not breathing._

_The poor bastard. That guy was a good shot_.

The paramedic's words haunted her. She tried to stand.

The nurse stood firm. "You did all you could do. Now, let the doctors do the rest."

Eve was too weary to protest. She allowed herself to be cleaned up until the nurse was satisfied she wasn't injured, the occasional tear rolling unchecked down her cheek.

* * *

She didn't know how long she waited. Ten minutes. An hour. It seemed like an eternity. Her thoughts couldn't quite settle on one thing for any length of time.

_Will he die? Is he dead? What's going on? What's happening?_

She felt the sudden urge to be back at home. In Kentucky. Her Gran frying bacon in the kitchen early in the morning, the smell wafting throughout the house. Or, riding horses, the horses her family had raised for years, through the meadows and hills her ancestors had ridden for generations.

Not here. She didn't want to be here. Not without Dan.

She should have never left home. Gran didn't want her to. Cindy didn't want her to. But, she was determined to start anew.

True, she would have never met Dan.

But, she was going to lose him. And, she didn't know if she could take it.

At some point since they'd been seeing each other, she had crossed a line from just dating to having honest-to-goodness feelings for him. And, it didn't make this any easier.

The nurse stayed with her, not wanting to leave her alone. The poor child looked like she was going to bolt at any moment, had that shocked expression witnesses get when a loved one is gunned down in front of them.

The nurse had seen the man. Those injuries rarely turned out good.

When the doors flew open, they both jumped to their feet.

A rather harried looking doctor rushed inside. "Mrs. Fielding?"

Eve almost couldn't speak, her heart was beating so hard. "Umm . . . Cantrell. Eve Cantrell. Is he . . ." She couldn't finish the thought. It hurt to say it.

The doctor didn't really much care about her distress. She was just one face in a sea of them. He studied a chart for a moment before answering. "He's in surgery now. His breathing improved somewhat after we installed a tube, but one of his lungs had collapsed. Also, one of the bullets seemed to have nicked an artery between his lungs and heart."

Eve felt her knees start to buckle underneath her. She took a moment to compose herself, the doctor waiting impatiently, as she gripped the back of chair so tightly, her knuckles turned white.

_I . . . will . . . not . . . pass . . . out. _

The moment passed. "What . . . what are his chances?"

The nurse gave him a sharp look.

He swallowed his first reaction, which was to tell her 'not very good.' "We don't know. It's hard to tell."

The nurse was by her side "Here. I'll take you to the third floor. You can wait up there. One of the surgeons will come find you if . . . well, when it's over."

_What's over? His surgery or his life?_

Eve allowed herself to be led to the elevators and down another bright hall to an empty waiting room. The nurse sat her down and promised to check on her.

Eve didn't even hear her leave.

All she could focus on was Dan being cut and prodded and carved at somewhere in this hospital. All because some sad little man with a serious psychological problem took a dislike to him.

Dan could be harsh. She knew he could. And so many people took it the wrong way. She couldn't fault them. It was easy to do.

But, she knew the real Dan. There was so much more to him than most people ever saw.

Why did he have to be like that? Who would have known it would get him killed?

She shivered and pulled the coat around herself tighter.

And froze. She'd know it anywhere.

A scent that was unmistakingly his wafted around her.

She glanced down, studying the jacket. It was way too big for her, the sleeves coming past her hands . . .

It was Dan's.

Someone had draped it over her shoulders, but she didn't realize . . .

Eve buried her face in her hands still covered by the jacket sleeves and sobbed, breathing deeply of all that she had left of him.


	18. Courtroom Wouldn't Be the Same

Eve didn't know how long she was there before the police found her. She was sitting in the same spot where the nurse had left her, listlessly staring at her hands when they walked in the room.

Her head jerked up when the door opened, eyes wide.

_It's too soon, isn't it? Surgery can't be completed now. Unless he's . . ._

"Ms. Cantrell?"

It was only two stern-looking uniformed officers.

She had to take a deep breath to keep from crying again. She felt like she was all cried out and could not possibly shed another tear.

"Ms. Cantrell?"

"Yes?" her voice was shaky.

"Ms. Cantrell, we'd like to ask you a few questions. About the incident."

_The incident? That's all this had been boiled down to, an incident? Some meaningless crime with a meaningless number to float through a meaningless __courtroom . . ."_

She repeated the story tonelessly, all the time drying desperately in her mind to think of something that could have been done differently.

They were kind and polite enough, even answering a few of her questions. "Was it him? Stiles?"

One of them looked down at a file. "Arthur Stiles. 48. Most recently of Bellview. Escaped last night with four other men."

She pictured that man in her mind during the day of the trial. Before he took Dan hostage. He looked so harmless. Not able to hurt a flea. Like anybody's uncle.

"Is he . . . did the guard . . ." She was having a hard time forming the words 'dead and 'kill.' It hit too close to home.

The other officer shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "He was declared dead on the scene."

That should have given her some form of comfort.

But, it didn't.

* * *

It took several rings before Harry picked up the phone.

But, it didn't take long for him to throw on some clothes and head straight for the hospital.

The nurse on the phone was brief. No, she didn't know Dan's status. Yes, he was in surgery. No, Eve was not hurt, but she was badly shaken and requested that she call him.

Before he left, he made sure to call Christine. She'd call the others.

Traffic was next-to-none this late at night, and Harry made good time across town.

He didn't know what he expected to find at the hospital. Maybe that this was all a mistake, a misunderstanding, not as serious as the nurse sounded. Dan would waltz out of there, coat thrown over his shoulder, with some smart-ass comment about the hospital system. That's what he hoped, at least.

He was rather fond of Dan, caustic comments and all.

And Harry had a soft spot for Eve. All of them did, even Roz. None of them had been more surprised than he was when she and Dan took up together. There was even an office pool on how long it would last.

So far, it had outlasted all of their predications.

They seemed so happy.

After asking directions to the surgical waiting room, he rushed to the third floor.

He saw her through the waiting room window talking to two officers, one of them taking notes. Her face was splotchy, and she was systematically tearing a tissue to shreds in her lap.

But, it was her dress that gave it away. What wasn't covered up by an oversized dinner jacket was covered with an unmistakable substance.

_It's not a mistake after all._

When he opened the door, she looked up, afraid and hopeful at the same time. But, when she saw it was him, she just stood there, pieces of tissue drifting to the floor. Harry saw more blood on the bodice of the dress.

He didn't know someone could bleed that much.

_This can't be good._

She didn't say anything, and he didn't either. But, when he held out his arms, she came to him.

"Stiles shot him, Harry. Bellview. Like Mac said," she whispered

Harry had trouble understanding, but she was shaking so hard, all he could do was stroke her back and tell her it was going to be OK.

Although, now he really didn't believe it.

Uncomfortably, the cops moved towards the door. "When you get a chance, miss, please stop by the station. We'll have your statement ready for you sign in the morning."

Eve nodded, none of it registering. Morning seemed so far away.

Harry held her at arm's length. "Have you heard anything?"

She shook her head in response, strands of hair that had fallen out of their pins brushing against her cheeks. "It's been . . . I don't know . . . maybe an hour."

Her voice was raw with emotion, and all he could do is pull her back into his arms. She clung to him gratefully.

"No news is good news. That means he's made it so far." Harry tried to bolster her spirits. But, it would take more than words to banish the horror in her eyes.

"I hope you're right, Harry. I really do," she whispered.

* * *

One-by-one, they showed up: Christine, Roz, Mac, Bull.

She couldn't tell them how much their presence meant to her. All she could do was hug each of them, trying her best to keep the tears at bay.

Dan would have been impressed. He was never one to dwell on the fact that he had such good friends.

_If he made it . . ._

Eve didn't want to relay what had happened until they all showed up. She couldn't bear to relive those moments more than she had to. Although, she had a feeling it would stay with her for as long as she lived, no matter what happened to Dan.

_Dammit, Eve, don't you cry. _

"His parents. Someone's got to call his parents." The thought hit her like a ton of bricks, and she almost panicked. "They've got to know . . ." Dan wasn't close to his family, but they were still his family.

Harry patted her leg. "Mac already did. They'll be on the next flight."

She took a deep breath. "Ok. Ok. Thanks, Mac."

He nodded in her direction.

She looked around into all their faces, all so full of concern and worry. Idly, she twisted another tissue in her hands as she told them what happened.

Christine started crying when she haltingly told them about how Dan shoved her away.

Tears fell in earnest now, and Bull handed her another tissue. She didn't know that she had any tears left. She had cried a river of them. "It was almost like . . . as if Dan didn't know what happened to him. There was so much blood . . . I couldn't stop it . . ."

She told them about what Stiles said before he was going to shoot again.

"Dan was aware. He knew. Right up until the guard shot Stiles, he was looking at me. With this expression . . . I think he might have been looking at me, but he couldn't see me." She put her hand over her mouth for a moment to compose herself. "He kept trying to say something, but the blood . . . I couldn't get him to wake up . . ."

"Just take a moment, sweetie. There's no hurry," Roz said soothingly.

Eve took a few deep breaths. Her head was pounding, and she wanted this to be over with ever fiber of her being. "He stopped breathing on the ambulance. I guess the doctor's . . . that they got him back . . ."

"They wouldn't operate unless he was stable," Mac said sensibly. He had been in Vietnam. He knew these things.

And, he also knew about bullet holes through lungs, about the sickly-sweet smell of blood and death and dying men with eyes open that didn't quite see.

He didn't wish that on anyone, friend or foe.

And, this poor, sweet child who was trying so hard to be brave had to see it herself.

And Dan. Always the smart ass. Always the over-the-top jokester.

The courtroom wouldn't be the same without him.

Mac had to turn away for a moment to hide his own tears.

"Ms. Cantrell?"

Eve rose to her feet at the sound of her name. This time, it wasn't the police.

It was a doctor. A different one than in ER. He looked exhausted.

"Ms. Cantrell, have a seat . . ."

She put both hands over her mouth. "He's dead . . ."

"No, Mr. Fielding is not dead." He stifled the urge to say 'yet.' "But, he's in very grave condition."

Eve sank to her chair once again. It didn't quite seem possible after what she had seen, what he had been through.

The doctor sat next to her and continued. "It was touch-and-go for awhile. He had lost a lot of blood, but we repaired his lung. After searching, we found a nick in the artery between his lungs and his heart and repaired it."

"That's good, isn't it?" Harry asked hopefully.

The doctor didn't look as pleased as they thought he should. "He's not out of the woods yet."

"What do you mean?" Christine asked fearfully.

"These types of injuries are a shock to the human body. All we can do is wait. And hope that if he wakes up, there are no lasting affects."

The term _brain damage_ hung in the air, heavily implied.

"I assume . . . that his next of kin have been contacted," the doctor said gently. It was never easy to tell the survivors that they had done all they could.

"Yes. His parents are on their way now," Harry answered.

Eve clutched desperately to any shred of sanity she had left, when all she wanted to do was scream. Tell the doctor he was wrong. She had to see him, at least to prove to herself he had not left this earth.

"Can I see him?" her voice was surprisingly strong.

He looked at his watch. "Only immediate family is allowed . . ."

"She was with him when he was shot. I think that qualifies her closer to him than anyone else," Harry said evenly.

The doctor sighed. He hated these arguments.

He never won them, either. "I will get a nurse to come get you and take you to ICU."

"Thank you," she whispered.


	19. A Family Thing

No, I'm not exactly following the show here with his parents and sister's appearance. Remember, that's why we do this! For funsies! Oh yeah, and, I _still _don't own anything.

* * *

They all moved to the ICU waiting room on the fifth floor. This room was more cheerful, the hospital trying to make people who had fitfully long waits feel a little more at home.

But, Eve noticed none of it. She sat on the edge of her seat, waiting. Waiting for the nurse to come get her. She would hold the doctor to that.

Mentally, she tried to prepare herself. Bits of pieces of time when her grandfather was dying of cancer popped unbidden in her mind. Poppy. She always called him Poppy. The machines. The drugs. The murmured voices. Gran's tears. Eve was so young, but all of those things stuck out in her mind to this day, magnified by the fears of a little girl. Death was so strange, so foreign. Her parents had died so young, and she didn't remember them, but Poppy was real to her. And death was scary, especially to a little girl with pigtails and a teddy bear.

Now that she was older, she knew it was a part of life. If anything, growing up on a farm taught her that.

But, it didn't make this any easier.

He had a chance. The doctor said he did. But, she saw all the blood, saw death and fear in his eyes. For some reason, she could not convince herself that he was going to make it out of this unscathed. Or even alive.

Such morbid thoughts were unusual for her. But, she had seen more morbidity tonight than she'd ever care to see again.

"Ms. Cantrell?"

Eve honed in on the voice. It was the nurse from earlier. Eve couldn't remember her name.

"Ms. Cantrell, the doctor said you can see him now."

She rose carefully from the chair, almost as if she had aged 50 years in the past few hours and followed her out the door, her back ramrod straight, trying to be brave.

Her friends watched her go.

"What's that child going to do if he doesn't make it?" Roz asked, more to herself.

Harry had wondered the same thing himself. Eve was made of sturdy stuff, but as much as she danced around the subject, she loved Dan. This could be a blow she might not recover.

Bull broke the silence with a thought that had floated through all their minds.

"What are we _all _going to do?"

* * *

Eve followed the nurse down the short hallway, trying to take in the details to keep from breaking down.

Crying will not help him.

Hell, it didn't even make her _feel_ better.

This ICU was similar to the one her grandfather spent his last days at home. But, bigger. And busier. Nurses staffed the main desk surrounded by monitors and charts.

They walked past the main desk, the nurses giving her a cursory glance before returning to their work. They walked past curtain after curtain, each closed to allow privacy.

Death was not an easy thing for people to see. Vaguely, Eve wondered why even the nurses seemed to be shutting it off from themselves.

She almost ran into the back of the nurse . . . Denise. Her name was Denise.

Denise had stopped and turned to face her. "You can only have a few minutes. Then, regular visiting hours will apply."

All Eve could do was nod, clutching Dan's coat around her tighter. She saw his name. "R. D. Fielding." Somehow that made this nightmare a little more real.

Denise smiled at her hesitantly. She could see Eve trying to bolster herself for what she was about to see. She motioned. "Go in whenever you are ready."

"Thanks," Eve whispered.

She did need a moment. While part of her wanted to run in there and see him for herself, to touch him and convince herself he was still here, part of her did not want to see what was behind that curtain. The image of him staring at his own blood on his hands as he sank to his knees had seared itself into her brain. She didn't want those images to be all she had to remember him by.

_C'mon, Eviegirl. You can do this._

Hesitantly, she reached for the curtain and slipped inside.

The only light was from the monitors, beeping and hissing. It took her eyes a moment to adjust.

"Oh, God."

She wouldn't have recognized him if she hadn't seen his name just outside. He was attached to every machine imaginable. Some, she knew their purpose. Some, she didn't. He was still on a breathing tube, the apparatus hissing and wheezing with every artificial breath.

She moved closer, fighting her emotions. He looked like a shell of the man she knew, the man she loved. Blood loss had left dark circles underneath his eyes. His skin was so pale, it almost appeared translucent. She saw his chest rise and fall, but the noise from the respirator didn't let her forget it was only by artificial assistance.

Someone had left a chair by his bed and she sank into it, not trusting her legs to hold her up anymore.

It looked like every inch of him was covered with wires and tubes. She was almost afraid to touch him; never had she seen him that fragile.

Uncertainly, she reached out and touched his hand. It was cold. Not a good sign. She linked her fingers with his and squeezed anyway, wishing with all her heart he would squeeze back.

"Dan?" She almost jumped at the sound of her own voice. It sounds surreal in this little corner of the hospital filled with mechanical beeps and hums.

There was no recognition. What was she expecting, anyway?

"Don't you die on me." Her voice shook as she fought tears. She reached up to brush his hair from his forehead, still clutching his hand with her other. Her fingers lingered on his face, and she suppressed a sob by pressing the back of his lifeless hand to her lips.

The man she knew, the one who waltzed with her under the stars in the park, the one who tried to cook for her one night and almost burned the apartment complex down, the one who made love to her with such reckless abandon she had ever known had been reduced to this. A shell. A lifeless shell. With machines keeping him alive, doctors and nurses watching over him who didn't give him much of a chance.

It was so damn _unfair_!

She let go of his hand and fished in the pockets of his coat for a tissue.

Instead, her fingers wrapped around a small velvet box.

Startled, she pulled it out. And stared.

"Oh. . ."

Holding her breath, she opened it slowly. Inside was a ring. An engagement ring.

But, they never discussed the future or marriage or even love. How could he walk around with this ring in his pocket and never bring any of those things up?

Now, she might not ever know.

Gingerly, she touched the ring as it lay there, shimmering.

"Oh, Dan . . ."

She laid her head in her arms on the side of the bed right next to his unresponsive body and wept bitter tears.

The Dan she knew was a fighter, but this time, she didn't think he could make it.

"Ms. Cantrell? Time's up."

Eve sat upright, wiping her face and slipping the ring back in the coat pocket. She stood slowly, then leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"I love you, Dan. Don't you ever forget that," she whispered as she brushed his hair off his forehead with her fingers.

She turned and followed the nurse into the hallway.

* * *

Eve didn't mention the ring. It wasn't the most important thing on her mind, anyway.

As the morning arrived, she sat and stared at nothing or paced or glanced through magazines. She couldn't leave until this was over. She didn't want him to die alone.

As the hours ticked by, people came and went. Some of them she knew, and some of them she didn't. They spoke in hushed whispers about what happened. The ones she knew spoke to her, but some just glanced at her sitting nearby in her blood-stained dress and Dan's coat.

The arrival of Dan's parents and sister was the worst. She had never met them, and she didn't even know if they knew about her.

_Surely, if he were going to propose, they would know_?

The doctors allowed them to see him, and they were whisked away before they were formally introduced.

If she was in her normal state of mind, she would have been concerned. After all, she had never met them. Or, she'd be worried about her appearance. It had been almost a full day, but there wasn't anything she could do about her clothing, just clutch his coat tighter around her to hide the worst of it.

But, she didn't care about any of that. It was almost as if her entire world had been thrown off-kilter, and she wasn't quite sure how to set it right again.

"You were with him, weren't you?"

The slight Cajun accent was unmistakable, the accent Dan had worked so hard to rid himself of. Eve looked into familiar eyes.

"Yes. Yes I was." Eve clutched the coat tighter, not wanting Dan's sister to see.

His sister perched on the chair next to her. "It's bad, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Nice to meet you, by the way. My name's Margaret. But, you can call me Meg. Danny . . ." She paused for a moment. "Danny always did. He knew it made me mad."

"He's good at that." She almost added he insisted on calling her Eviegirl, but choked on the words.

Meg gave a soft chuckle. "Yes, that he is."

"Where're your parents?"

Meg motioned. "Still in there. I think they're talking with the doctor. I just couldn't take it anymore. All the way here, we were worrying and wondering. Now, that we're here, it's far worse than I could have imagined." She said all this in such a matter-of-fact voice, that Eve had to wonder a little about their relationship.

"So . . . were . . . are you close?" Not past tense. Not yet.

But, Meg didn't seem to notice. "As close as a brother and sister can be who are living in separate parts of the country, I suppose. Plus, he's almost 20 years older than me. I was always the pest." She gave a sardonic smile at that. "He told me about you. And, he never told me about anyone he was seeing."

Eve looked away for a moment, the ring coming to mind. But, she pushed it away. It seemed so strange to be having this conversation here and now with Dan's sister.

Meg reached out and fingered the stained material of her dress. "It was rough, I guess?" Her voice actually had a hitch to it.

Eve bit her lip before answering. "It was . . . touch-and-go for a little while." She borrowed the doctor's phrase.

"Tell me what happened. Before they get back. I don't think . . . I don't know if my mom could handle the story, but I want to be able to tell her when she's ready."

So, Eve told it again, this time with as little emotion as she could possibly manage. She made sure she mentioned his previous encounter with Stiles, so maybe Meg would understand. The worst parts of it made her voice shake, but other than that, she got through it without any major emotional outbursts.

An improvement.

Meg studied a spot on the floor impassively as Eve talked.

When Eve was done, she looked deep in thought. "You must love him."

"We've never discussed it . . ."

"Oh, don't give me that. You sound like Danny!" This was the first display of emotion from Meg, and Eve was a little surprised. "You stepped in between him and that man with the gun. I have a feeling not too many of those women he beds would do that much for anyone, let alone Danny."

Eve hadn't thought of it that way at all. "That wasn't my intention . . . I was terrified. All that blood . . . and he was just lying there . . . and Stiles was watching . . ."

Meg patted her leg. "You did all you could do." Her voice was just as void as emotion as if her own brother wasn't lying in the next room fighting for his life.

Eve figured if she had a brother, she wouldn't be reacting the same way. "You know something?"

"What's that?"

"I always thought Dan hid his true feelings from others because it was a trait he picked up somewhere along the way. But, I guess it's a family thing."

Meg raised an eyebrow, but didn't have time to reply.

Her parents had returned.

Introductions were made. Eve had to excuse herself for a moment after his mother clutched her, crying into her shoulder. She looked at his father, a little helpless as to what to do.

He just looked right back at her, his eyes just as sad as her own.


	20. Gloryland

The song is "Gloryland," and the version I like is by a Gatlinburg-area bluegrass performer Roger Helton. His version is _a cappella _(for you folks that don't appreciate a good banjo picker!). It's a rather obscure song, so I don't really know who owns the rights to it. All I know is I DO NOT!

* * *

The day came and went, and still they stayed. And waited. Visiting times were few, and Eve made sure she gave his family privacy as they sat with him.

None of it mattered anyway. She saw the reports. And the read-outs on the screen.

He wasn't making any progress.

The doctor's said that was not unusual. But, if something were to happen, it would have been better to happen in the first 24 hours.

She sat in the waiting room, exhausted beyond what was humanly possible. But, she couldn't rest. Not because she was in a stuffy waiting room. Or because she was still wearing the same clothes she wore that night.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw it happening all over again. And the blood. It was everywhere.

No one talked much as the wait dragged on. Thankfully, she didn't have to make small talk with his family. They retreated to a private corner of the room. Harry made sure they were right at home and regaled them of some of Dan's funnier stories, but Eve didn't think she could manage it.

They were curious, she could tell. But, now wasn't the time or place for anything, not with Dan dying in the next room.

_Dan dying . . ._

She couldn't quite grasp it, but she knew she should. Better to come to terms with it now than later.

But, she didn't want him to die.

It was so unfair . . .

She must have dozed because when Roz shook her, she sat bolt upright.

"What . . . is he . . ."

Roz pursed her lips. "You've only been dozing for a few minutes. Nothing's changed."

Eve almost collapsed with relief.

"But, I'm taking you home."

"_What_?" she lowered her voice when she saw Dan's family was watching. "I'm not leaving him until this is over. You hear me?"

Roz raised an eyebrow. "Child, you have been here for almost two whole days. You won't eat what Bull brings you, and you won't sleep. You're going to be in a bed next to him if you keep it up."

Eve wanted to fight. She truly did. But, all the fight was gone, dried up after the worry and tension and fear of the last few days.

What good would it do to stay, anyway? It hadn't done him a damn bit of good so far. He was so unresponsive, he might as well have been . . .

"If anything changes – and I mean anything! – call me. Call me right that second."

Roz nodded once in agreement.

Everything was vague after that. Bull stood her up and took her to his car. Then, he must have driven her home. She didn't remember much about that as she leaned her forehead against the cool glass, watching the busy streets full of busy people. She wondered briefly how everyone could just go on with their lives after hers had been so unnecessarily altered.

Lynette was waiting for her in her apartment. She took over from there.

It touched Eve to know that her friend was there, but she couldn't make herself form the words. Her brain was fried.

Lynette sent to take a shower. Eve left her clothes in a pile on the floor, reveling just for a moment at the warm water on her weary body.

Too bad there wasn't something like that for her soul.

When she emerged from the shower, automatically throwing on one of Dan's shirts he had left there, her dress was gone.

Eve hoped Lynette burned it. She had bought it with such high expectations of a fun evening. And look what happened.

Bone-tired, she crawled underneath the blankets.

She was asleep before Lynette could bring in the tray with some soup and crackers.

Lynette just let her sleep. She figured she needed it.

* * *

_If you have friends in gloryland, who've left because of pain; thank God up there they'll die no more. They'll suffer not again . ._ .

She sat through the service unmoving. It was awful. The tears. The platitudes. The flowers. Always the pungent smell of flowers she would forever associate with death.

His New York friends made the trip to Louisiana. They stayed together. It was easier that way.

Eve glanced to her right and left. She had Roz on one side and Bull on the other. Just like they had always been. Right up until Dan died. Harry and Christine sat next to Bull, Christine crying softly into a tissue. Mac and his wife sat beside Roz, Mac stone-faced.

There were a few others she recognized vaguely. The district attorney. A few other public officials. And a couple of women that Eve didn't want to even contemplate how Dan knew them.

It didn't matter, anyway.

_. . .The lame will walk in gloryland, the blind up there will see; the deaf in gloryland will hear, the dumb will talk to me . . ._

She tried to pay attention to the service. And not to the picture sitting next to his closed casket. He was a little younger – probably taken several years ago. But, he looked so alive, the gleam in his eyes saying he was ready to take on the world.

And look what happened.

Eve had refused to view the body the night before. His mother had insisted. His sister had insisted. But, Eve was adamant.

It hurt too damn much.

She knew what he looked like dead. She had been with him when he died, the doctors declaring that they had done all they could do. The machines were turned off. Then, he was gone. Quietly. Peacefully.

Leaving her behind.

She wanted to scream, to yell, to kick and fight.

But, it would do no good.

She was tired of death. Sick of it.

Funny, she could barely remember what happened that day, his heartbeats growing further and further apart until they were gone. It was almost as if her mind was already erasing him from her memory. Just like these people wanted to do. To end his life with all this pomp and circumstance, then go on with their own. Sure, he would have liked pomp and circumstance, but this beautiful old church with organ and piano droning would have made him smile that sardonic smile of his.

But, it didn't matter now.

_. . .Then weep not friends, I'm going home. Up there we'll die no more. No coffins will be made up there. No graves on that bright shore . . ._

They all stood as the casket was carried from the building, followed by his family. Eve felt for his mother the most. This was her baby. Her only son. Shot down in the prime of life.

She met Eve's eyes, and Eve had to look away.

Wasn't there something else you could have done?

No, no. Her eyes weren't telling her that. But, Eve felt that way. Felt that she could have stopped it. She didn't dare tell anyone. It was silly. Preposterous, even. There wasn't anything she could do. Dan's path of life was meant to end on that cold, concrete floor. At least she was there for him.

What little good it did.

_. . . They'll be no sun in gloryland. The moon and stars won't shine. For Christ Himself is love up there. He'll reign in love divine. . ._

They were in the limos following the long black hearse. Harry had sprung for the limos.

Dan would have liked that.

They were all silent, lost in their own thoughts. Eve watched listlessly out the window, saw the cars pulled over to the side of the road. The hats removed in respect for the unknown dead. The heads bowed. Moss hung in all the trees, and the entire scenery looked alive with vegetation.

How could Dan want to leave here?

How could I want to leave Kentucky?

_. . .Then weep not friends, I'm going home. Up there we'll die no more. No coffins will be made up there. No graves on that bright shore . . ._

The moss-strewn trees of the cemetery made Eve shiver. Bull patted her back.

She had such good friends. Dan did, too.

Only, he probably never realized it.

They followed the hearse to the freshly-dug hole. The smell of earth was pungent in the air and made her think of planting time at home.

The preacher said a few more words. Eve didn't know what they were. She couldn't take her eyes out of that hole. That dark, dank hole they were going to put that beautiful stained oak coffin into, the earthly remains of the once vibrant man waiting to return to where they came from.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust . . .

_. . . No coffins will be made up there. No graves on that bright shore._

Eve always hated this part.

With a nod from the preacher, then cemetery workers began lowering the casket into the ground.

Dan's mother sobbed quietly as the workers finished their job, her husband and daughter watching stoically.

When the handfuls of dirt dropped by family and friends hit the oak, it made a thumping noise. Eve jumped, trying desperately to hold onto her sanity. If his family could do it, she could, too.

Her turn came. Holding Bull's arm for dear life, she let the dirt trickle from her fingers, didn't want it to make a noise at all. She moved away as everyone had their turn.

A bird chirped shrilly. It sounded out of place in the somber scene. Eve looked around, wondering how such a happy sounding bird could even be in their horrible place of death and broken dreams.

She looked down into the hole where Dan's remains lay. The bird was down there. Perched on the handfuls of dirt. It was a small little unassuming thing, but every time it opened its beak, the funny shrilling noise came out of it.

Eve looked around, but no one else seemed to notice.

When she looked down again, the bird was still singing away. But blood was trickling out of its beak staining the dirt and the casket.

* * *

Tonygirl again. And, yeah, I'm _still _a cruel S-O-B! Hee, hee . . .


	21. She Might Have Mentioned a Bra

It was hazy. Muffled.

His limbs felt heavy, held down by a weight he could feel into his very bones.

There was no pain. Not yet.

He wondered briefly if he was still lying on the floor of the parking deck.

Something nearby starting screeching and beeping. It was an awful racket, loud.

He opened his mouth to say something. To ask someone to stop that awful noise. But, something was in his throat.

And, it wasn't blood.

Feebly, he tried to get to what it was, to take it out.

"OK, Mr. Fielding, you've got to calm down. The doctor's on his way."

It was a voice. A woman's voice.

He turned towards it, but his vision was still bleary.

Just like in the parking deck . . .

She was older. Plumper. Not Eve.

_Oh, my God! Eve!_

_She was there! Between me and . . . and . . ._

_Stiles!_

_There was another shot!_

He couldn't fight much. He was too tired. Exhausted.

But, she wasn't here. He took a cursory glance around the room and there was no one. But a doctor and some nurses.

And his mother?

Who called his mother?

The blood. It was bad.

OK, they probably should have called his mother.

_Just how long was I here, anyway?_

But, no Eve.

He knew her. He knew she'd be here. If she was even able to.

_Dammit, he had to find her!_

* * *

"Eve! Eve, wake up!"

Eve woke with a start, sitting straight up in bed, her heart pounding, the bloody casket fading away.

_A dream, it was only a dream._

Automatically, she reached over on her right side where Dan slept, wanting to feel him. To prove to herself that he was OK.

The blankets were cold.

And, she remembered not all of it was a dream.

It hit with a force that practically knocked the breath from her.

Finally, she focused on the person in the room.

Lynette. Lynette was here when Bull brought her home.

Roz promised she'd call.

"Are you OK? I think you were having a nightmare . . ."

The shrilling noise in her dream was the phone ringing on her bedside.

"Who was it? Roz promised she'd call . . ." Eve jumped up, her mind still foggy. She spotted Dan's jacket draped over a chair. Absently, she picked it up.

"It was Roz, hon."

"He's dead, isn't he?" The church, the coffin, the limo, the moss-strewn trees . . . it was all too real. A premonition, that's what it was. She should have been upset. But, crying wouldn't bring him back. She had to be strong. . .

" . . .Are you even listening to me? Have you heard what I said?"

Eve looked at her friend. Lynette had her hands on her hips. "Eve, he's awake. Not more than 20 minutes ago. And, he wants to see you."

Eve stared at her friend a moment. "What are you saying . . ."

Lynette wanted to shake her. "He's alive, you dork!"

Eve didn't need to hear it again. She dropped the coat in the floor.

Lynette grabbed the back of her shirt before she rushed from the room. "Oh, no, you don't. Not without pants."

* * *

"OK, Mr. Fielding, you've got to calm down. You're not going to do anything but hurt yourself if you keep that up."  
Dan slapped the nurse's hands away. At least, he thought he did. It was more like a feeble shove, and he knew it.

Why didn't they _understand_? Why didn't they take this blasted thing out of his throat? Then, he'd ask them – no, demand that they tell him where she was.

His mother! His mother would know!

His eyes pled with hers, but all she would do was watch him as the staff worked around him, nothing but concern for him in her own.

_Dammit, what was going on here?_

* * *

"Harry, you've got to do something." Meg asked sensibly enough when she rushed into the waiting room.

Harry jumped up. "I thought he was waking up . . ."

"He's fighting them. They're going to have to sedate him, but he's just going to fight them again when he wakes up the next time."

Harry started following her into ICU, at a loss. "Well, what can I do?"

Meg was uncharacteristically frantic. "I don't know, but he thought highly of you. Maybe you can calm him down."

"How can he have anything left to struggle. . ."

"I don't know, but he does. He's going to hurt himself even more. See for yourself."

Dan was putting up a pretty good fight, Harry had to admit. He was tugging listlessly at wires and tubes that had kept him alive, brushing off any attempts to stop him.

"Mr. Fielding, if you don't calm down, we're going to have to restrain you," the doctor said tersely.

But, Harry could tell none of it was sinking in. They were fighting a battle of the wills, and Dan always won those.

Dan's eyes met his.

Harry saw that same look in Eve's eyes during Dan's surgery.

She wanted to know what was happening.

It dawned on him.

He pushed his way to the bedside, by now the room crowded with people. As gently as he could, he grasped both of Dan's wrists in his. He had to talk fast before he did more damage to himself.

"Dan, look at me."

* * *

_Harry's here. Harry would understand. He would know where she was. Why she isn't here. Why no one understood!_

_I. Have. To. Know. _

She was gone. Stiles shot her. He lived, and Eve didn't.

_I can't do this without her . . ._

All of the sudden, Harry was in his line of vision. But . . .he was holding him down!

_That dirty little fink! He was just like all the others._ Wanted him to calm down or some nonsense like that.

Dan's eyes narrowed.

"Dan, look at me."

His patient tone infuriated Dan.

_I'll do better than that. I'll punch you in the mouth the first chance I get. After I find out what happened to Eve . . ._

Harry knew he had to talk fast.

"Dan, she's alright. She's at home. Resting. She sat in that waiting room for two days, but she couldn't do it anymore. She's on her way, though. She'll be here, buddy. Just give her time."

Dan's eyes searched his for one long moment, almost as if he were asking . . .

"No, I'm not lying to you. She's not hurt. At all. The gun shot wasn't from Stiles, it was a security guard. He shot Stiles and killed him. She's fine. You're going to be fine . . ."

It took a moment for all of the hurried words to sink in.

She . . . was alive?

Harry trailed off when he saw the tear trickle down Dan's face.

Not once, had he ever seen Dan cry. Sure, Dan had seen him cry, but that one tear touched him more than anything else.

He let go of Dan's arms, and weakly, Dan reached out and patted his own arm.

Harry looked at the nurses. "OK. Now, he'll be good. Won't you, Danny Boy?"

Dan rolled his eyes, and Harry had to grin.

Hot damn, they got him back!

* * *

Traffic was awful. Eve drove herself, not wanting to wait on a cab or a ride or anything.

All she wanted was to get to the hospital pronto. To see for herself that Dan really was awake. That her dream wasn't real. That this nightmare just might have a happy ending.

But, the city of New York was against her, deciding to close down traffic for some parade of some sort.

She thought she was going to tear her hair out.

_What if he slipped back into a coma? What if he's brain damaged?_  
No one mentioned that over the phone.

Maybe, they could tell this early.

_What if he died before I got there? _

She was a nervous wreck when she flew into the hospital parking lot, practically racing into the building.

Elevators were too slow. She shoved her way up the stairway to the correct floor and burst through the doors.

Harry was standing there talking to Meg.

"There you are! We wondered . . ."

"Where is he? Is everything alright? What happened?"

Harry held up his hands. "Just slow down."

"Don't you tell me to slow down!"

Meg took her hand and led her to the elevators. "He's upstairs. They're moving him to another floor. They took him off all that dreadful machinery and put him in a regular room. Isn't that fantastic?"

Meg's even tone calmed her. "I got stuck in traffic. I kept thinking about what could have happened. Lynette made me put on pants."

Meg studied her. "She might have mentioned a bra while she was at it."

Eve pulled the neck of the oversized shirt of Dan's she had slept in and looked down it, then crossed her arms over herself. "I was a little sidetracked."

"I know. Just kidding."

"Why is this elevator so damned slow?" Eve said, hitting the button for the 14th floor repeatedly.

"Listen, I want to tell you something. I don't know how you wormed your way into my brother's heart of stone, but you did. The first thing he wanted when he woke up was you. But, none of us realized that. He couldn't tell us because of the respirator thing. But, Harry knew. Dan thought you had been shot. He heard the last gun shot and thought it was that dreadful man . . . well, he fought all of us until Harry told him you were fine." Meg actually seemed to be babbling, something that Eve doubted she did often.

"Did he . . . do more damage?" The thought of him that scared hurt her. _You should have stayed . . ._

"None that we can tell. Doctor's are saying he was just out so long because his body was recovering. They're saying he could probably go home in a couple of days. Imagine? At death's door to back home in a matter of five days?"

"Yeah, imagine," Eve whispered.

When the doors finally grinded open, Eve took off.

"Room 1437!" Meg called behind her.

Eve hurriedly studied the signs on the hallway, muttering to herself. This was all she had been daring to want since this whole mess started, and she'd be damned if they kept her from him another moment.

When she finally got to room 1437, she practically burst through the door.

He was asleep.

She took a deep breath.

Meg was right. He did look better. The fewer amount of monitors and machines were comforting, too. He was still on oxygen, but without the tube down his throat.

She thought of him fighting the staff and his family and friends, and tears sprung to her eyes. She turned around for a moment to give herself a moment to compose herself.

Why was this so _hard_? She should be happy, but all she wanted to do was cry. Who knew she had any tears left?

"Eviegirl."

His voice was raspy, probably from disuse and the tube.

She turned around, wiping tears with her sleeves. "I didn't mean to wake you . . ."

"Don't give me that crap." He held out his hand.

She went to him, taking it in hers.

It was warm. A good sign.

She squeezed his fingers. Her heart leapt when he squeezed back.

She'd wanted to feel that for so long.

She wiped at her tears impatiently.

For some reason, she was at a loss of what to say. There was so much she wanted to tell him, so much she swore she would say if she had a chance. Now that he was awake, it all escaped her.

She almost lost him . . .

And, that made the tears fall faster.

"Come here, Eviegirl. You know I hate it when you cry." His voice was hoarse from more than just disuse.

But, before she could see his own emotion so close to the surface, he practically pulled her into the bed next to him. She didn't protest, only snuggled up next to him the best she could.

"You . . . missed . . . a lot . . . of crying . . . the past few. . . days."

She could feel him smile against her forehead. "Good. I'd have hated to have seen it. Probably why it took me so long to wake up."

She buried her face into his side, careful against his bandages. "Don't . . . joke . . . about . . . that."

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"No . . . you're . . . not."

"Don't argue with me. I almost died."

Eve almost burst out laughing. He was OK. He was going to be OK. "You're going . . . to use that card . . . as much as you can, aren't you?"

He breathed as deep as he could. The scent of her surrounded him, enveloped him, kept him sane. "You bet your sweet ass."

* * *

Yeah, the dreaded dream sequence. I went there, a la 'Dallas,' didn't I? ;-)


	22. Breaking Several Commandments

"Do I have to call your mother and make her come back up here?" Eve asked exasperatingly.

"God, no!" Dan lounged in a chair in his apartment, his arms crossed.

"I know she'll turn right back around the minute I get her. It you don't take those pills, I most certainly will." She crossed her arms just as stubbornly.

Dan sighed hugely. "But, they make me sleepy."

"Don't be such a big baby. The doctor said take them, and you will take them."

"No."

"Do I have to hold you down and force them down your throat?" Eve was losing her patience.

"Promise?"

Eve rolled her eyes. "OK, buster, I'm calling your mother . . ." She headed towards the phone.

"OK, OK! You've been hanging out with Meg too long. I'll take them."

She handed him the pills and a glass of water, and he swallowed them down in one fell swoop. "There. Happy?"

"Thrilled." She snatched the glass from him and headed to the kitchen.

"You know, you've been real testy lately," he called after her.

"Well, you're not exactly a poster boy for patience yourself." She began to load dishes into the dishwasher, trying her best not to bang dishes together in annoyance.

He had been out of the hospital for a week. His mother had insisted on staying with him at first, which was fine with Eve. She had not been sleeping well at all, and she figured looking after Dan would be like the blind leading the blind. She was often jittery and out-of-sorts, but tried to ignore it. She would get over it. In time. She hoped. Plus, she had to get back to work. Bills were coming due that needed to be paid.

He was doing really well, considering all that had happened, and was supposed to return to work in a week or so. But, he was still weak, and Eve had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't the medicine. The doctors told him the healing process would take time, and not to rush it.

But, they didn't know Dan very well.

She started the dishwasher and wiped down the counters, folding the dishcloth once and draping it on the divider in the sink. Thank goodness today was her off day. Taking care of Dan had become a full-time job.

She flipped off the light and wandered back into the living room.

Dan was asleep in the chair, his head at an impossible angle.

Eve shook her head and shook him lightly. "You know if you sleep there, you'll wake up sore in the morning."

He opened one bleary eye. "So?"

"So – up and Adam, you're going to bed." She tugged on his arm.

"Only if you go with me."

"Not gonna happen."

"Boy, you sure are mean, you know?" Reluctantly, he stood up stiffly.

Eve saw the faint shadow of pain in his eyes. "You OK?" Her voice was more apprehensive than she would have liked.

He waved her off. "I'll be fine in a minute."

She watched him closely as he shuffled to his bedroom. To avoid thinking at all, she immediately starting straightening up the room, putting magazines back where they went and such. She heard the shower start up. "Don't you get those bandages wet!" she called.

"Yes, mother," he answered.

Eve had to smile to herself as she folded a blanket.

_Just think, I almost lost him . . ._

Her smile faded, and she absently stroked the blanket draped over her arms.

"Aren't you going to come tuck me in?" he called, making her jump. She didn't know how long she had even been standing there.

"Aren't you a little old for that?" She started moving and cleaning again. Anything to avoid thinking. Thinking was bad. It only got her into such a state that she wouldn't sleep. Again.

"My mom tucked me in." His tone was pouty.

"Your mom is a saint." But, she walked into his room anyway. "Don't scratch."

Dan was absently rubbing his chest. "These damn bandages itch like fire. They're going to drive me crazy."

"Don't think about it."

"It's kind of hard not to think about."

_You got that right._

_Nope. Can't think about that._

She immediately starting picking up clothes scattered about, draping them over her arm.

"You're just a bundle of nerves. Take one of my pills. They seem to help."

She could tell he was drifting off. Tossing all the clothes in a laundry basket, she settled on the edge of the bed.

"Tell me a story."

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," she retorted good-naturedly, brushing his hair from his forehead.

"My mom would tell me a story."

"I'll not your mother."

"Thank goodness, or we'd be breaking several commandments." He reached out and took her hand, kissing the back of it softly.

She felt tears spring to her eyes. That happened too damn much lately. "Since when have you worried about breaking commandments?"

"Since I got closer to my final reward than I've ever wanted to. Where are you going to sleep?"

Honestly, he was well enough to stay by himself. But, she liked the excuse of being with him. "On the couch. Where I slept last night."

"Why don't you stay in here with me?" He patted the empty side of the bed sleepily.

"Isn't that breaking another commandment?" Plus, she fought now in her sleep. She didn't want to hurt him.

"Oh. Right."

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You're losing your touch. You need to get back to work soon, or you won't be able to argue anything."

But, he was already asleep.

Eve watched him for a moment, the even rise and fall of his chest without the aid of machinery comforting. As carefully as possible, she disentangled her hand from his and rose, flipping off the lamp by his bed before returning to the living room.

She flopped on the couch and thought about watching television. She was so tired, but knew what would happen when she slept. And it would be anything but restful.

* * *

It started the same as it always did. The echoing darkness in the parking deck. The shadowy figure materializing. The gun.

Always the damn gun.

Sometimes it varied, the sound of respirators and hospital machinery hissing loudly, making her want to cover her ears. Or, the sirens wailing, piercing the dark with awful shrieking.

But, one thing was the same. There was always blood. On him. On her. On the ground. Sometimes, even on Stiles, although she never stopped to wonder how it got there.

Each time, she couldn't do anything about it. She never stopped Stiles from firing or the blood from coming.

It was awful.

"You've got to stop him," Dan kept whispering, blood bubbling on his lips. "He'll kill you."

She was always panicked, trying to put pressure on his chest. She couldn't see Stiles, he was gone. But, she knew he was out there, in the shadows.

"What do you want me to do?" She begged a dying Dan for guidance. She felt so alone, so confused, so helpless.

But, he didn't answer. Just laid there, pale, lifeless.

There was a noise from the shadows. Eve stood up, fists clenched.

"What do you _want_? Go _away_! _Leave us alone_!" She turned around and around, but couldn't find Stiles.

"You need to be punished," he said, more of an echo in her head than an actual voice.

"Leave us alone!" she sobbed again, straining to see. But, there was nothing. "_Please_, leave us alone!"

When the shot echoed from the darkness, she started screaming, against Stiles and a world she could no longer control.

* * *

"Eve!"

She kept fighting, her eyes clamped shut. He had her wrists, was trying to hold her down. "Leave us alone, damn you! Let me go!" She fought as best she could.

"_Evelyn_! Wake up!"

If she opened her eyes, it would still all be there. The blood . . .

"Eve, you're scaring me . . ."

Her eyes flew open. Dan was standing over her, breathing heavily from exertion, trying his best to keep her from flailing about.

He was alive. She was dreaming.

_That same damn dream . . ._

She struggled into a sitting position, and he let her go. She tried to catch her breath, gulping air as if her life depended on it. Sweat was trickling down her back, and she kicked off the blanket tangled at her feet.

_It was a dream. Just a dream. Everything's fine . . ._

"Eve? Eve, honey? Look at me." He had knelt next to the couch, watching her compose herself.

"Just . . .just give me another minute." Her heart rate was slowing, her breathing was less ragged.

He brushed the hair off her shoulder. "How long have you been having them?"

"Since . . . since . . . " _Uh oh, he knew_. "I'm fine. Look, it was just a nightmare. People have them all the time . . ." She tried to stand up as she talked, but his hand stayed firmly on her shoulder.

"Talk to me."

Momentarily, she was panicked. She didn't want to face it. Not now. She shook her head, her hair falling in her face.

He took her chin in his hand and made her look at him. His eyes were so full of compassion and concern . . .

"Every time I bring up that night, you run like a scared rabbit. You need to talk to me. Tell me what happened. Tell me what you felt and what you saw . . ."

She sniffed, wishing she had a tissue. "Dan Fielding wants to talk about feelings? That's a new one."

He frowned. "This is serious, Eviegirl. Do you think I can't tell that you haven't been sleeping? That you jump each time there's a loud noise? Or even when I touch you? The other day, I brushed your arm, and you jumped backwards like I had hit you."

"I . . ." She swallowed hard. "I need to use the bathroom." She stood up and brushed by him, escaping to safety behind the door.

After visiting the toilet, she stood at the sink and splashed water on her face, reaching for a towel.

She stared at her reflection for a moment.

She _did_ look like a scared rabbit!

Why did she not want to talk about it? He was there, for goodness sakes! He'd understand!

But, she had fallen for him. Hard. And despite what they had been through together, and despite the fact that she found the ring in his pocket, which she _assumed_ was for her, she was scared. She cared so much, and he almost died, and then she would have been just as alone as before. Except this time would have been worse. She would know what was missing in her life.

This was crazy talk. He could still leave her of his own accord. It was usually how he operated. No mention of the ring. No mention of love.

Why did it mean so much?

One little word, that's all it was, but it held so much meaning.

What happened to her simple little life? She worked, she came home, she fed her cat, she read a magazine. Or had dinner with a friend. It was nice. Orderly. Functional. She was content with it.

Now, what? She'd put her heart and soul into a relationship with a man who had probably pissed off more people in a week than she had met in a lifetime.

Who said this wouldn't happen again? More shadowy figures on the edge, just waiting for a chance to take him down?

She paled at the thought, realizing it had been on the edge of her conscious for awhile now.

"I know you're a woman and all, but you're taking entirely too long in there." Dan knocked on the door.

He was just as surprised when she threw it open and barged past him. "I've got to go."

"_What?_"

"My cat. I've got to check on my cat." She started throwing things into her overnight bag, Dan trailing along behind.

"I thought you said Lynette . . ."

"She might have forgotten to feed him. Or left the stove on. Billy's a handful these days . . ."

"But . . ."

She tossed her jacket on over her night shirt, ignoring him. She was still wearing shorts and would freeze, but she had to get out of here. "You'll be alright. You've been alright for awhile. Your mother was just humoring you by staying here. But, she is your mother, after all . . ."

"But . . ."

She threw her bag over her shoulder, hunting for her keys. If she didn't get out of her soon, she was going to lose it. She had to take a little while, hell maybe if a couple of days, and get her life back in order.

"There plenty of food in the fridge, and if you need anything, you know who to call. Your medicine is in the kitchen, and . . ."

He was losing her. Something had happened, and for the life of him he didn't know what it was. But, if he didn't stop her, she was going to walk out that door and be gone for good . . . he couldn't handle that.

She reached for the doorknob, still chattering away nervously. "I've got to . . ."

"For God's sakes, would you _shut up_?" he roared, alarmed.

"I will keep talking if I want to! There's nothing to talk about, anyway! You're fine and don't need a babysitter. You'll be back at work next week . . ."

She opened the door as she talked, hoping to slip away.

"Look at me, dammit! Look at me!" He grabbed her arm, desperate to pull her back inside.

"That's always a bad idea. You always make me change my mind. And, I'm not changing my mind! I can't do this again. What if someone else . . ." She clamped her mouth shut. Too much information.

Through his troubled mind, a light dawned. "What if someone else tries to take a shot at me? Is that it? Is that all you're worried about?"

"_All?_ What do you mean 'all'?" She jerked her arm out of his grasp and whirled around, her anger bubbling to the surface. "I watched you bleed on that floor, I tried to staunch the blood myself and then sat in that hospital for two damn days waiting for word on if you would live or die, and you say that's _all_ I'm worried about? Do you know what it's like? The fear, the panic, seeing someone you care about at the mercy of some lunatic? You're the freakin' assistant district attorney! Your _job_ is to piss folks off! There will be more. Mark my words, there _will_ be more!"

Dan fought back. "So, that's it, huh? You walk out of that door now because you're too chicken to face life? What are you going to do? Hide under a rock? Well, let me tell you something, Miss 'High and Mighty' Cantrell, I do know what it's like to watch someone you love die. Because you know what? That's what I thought happened to you. I thought you were dead. It might not have really happened that way, but I felt more fear and panic in those few moments before Harry got to me than I have felt in my entire life! So, if you want to run and hide, fine! Do that! I never took you for a coward, but maybe I was mistaken!"

Eve spun on her heel, opening the door wide, fully intending to march through it as he ranted. But, the coward comment stopped her in her tracks. She slammed the door shut so hard, a picture crashed to the floor. "I am _not_ a coward!"

Dan looked livid, and momentarily, she wondered if he should be getting this worked up.

"Well, stop acting like one!"

She forgot her self-admonition to be nice, pointing at him for emphasis. "You're the world's biggest creep, you know that?" Her bottom lip started to tremble, but she fought it.

Dan saw her battle tears. He couldn't stand to watch it. He pulled her to him, pushing her bags from her shoulder in an effort to keep her here. "Eviegirl, why do you make things so damn difficult?"

She struggled a bit in his embrace, but he held fast. Her anger ebbed. "I don't mean to."

"Why don't you just talk to me? Tell me these things. Instead of hiding them inside."

"I did tell you . . ."

"No, you yelled at me. Big difference."

"Well, you made me do it." Her voice was muffled in his shirt.

He chuckled deep in his throat, cautiously relieved that he had stopped her panicked flight. If she had run away from him . . .

"I love you, Eviegirl. I don't know if I've ever told you that. But, I do."

She wished those words made all her fears, unfounded or not, disappear. She had put such high hopes in that. But, they didn't.

Big surprise there.

It warmed her heart to hear them, though. "I love you, too."

They stood that way for a long time, bathed in the light from the bedroom, clinging to each other for dear life.


	23. Sleep Like the Dead

"Dan, Dan! It's good to have you back, my man!" Mac was in an unusually jovial mood. He slapped Dan on the back as they all settled at a table in the seedy little bar.

"It's good to be back." And, it was. Sitting at home was about to drive him crazy. At least the past few days before he returned to work, the doctor had cleared him for certain other 'extracurricular' activities, so he and Eve could make up for lost time. It took a little coaxing on his part to convince her, especially after she caught sight of the jagged scars on his chest, but convince her he did. Better than sitting around all day, that's for damn sure.

"I don't know. You still look a little peaked to me," Harry held up a hand to get the waitress's attention.

"This coming from the man who thinks sunlight is one of the seven deadliest sins." His suits did fit a little loose now. And, he was tired. Always tired.

"So, what's Eve doing tonight?" Bull asked, popping a pretzel in his mouth.

"Sleeping."

"Probably glad to get rid of her patient, huh?" Harry elbowed him in the side.

"I wasn't the easiest sick person," Dan admitted.

"OK, folks, first round's on me!" Mac slapped his hands together.

"Mac, what in the world has gotten into you tonight?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I didn't think you'd be that excited to see Dan back," Bull added.

"Nope. Not it. Not that I don't like you, buddy."

"Right back at ya."

Mac grinned. "But, I have a little announcement. Quon Lee is going to have a baby!"

"Congratulations, Mac!" Harry stood up and shook his friend's hand. "That's great!"

"You wanna boy or girl?" Bull asked.

"Doesn't matter to me."

Harry settled back in his chair. "Well, I'll be. Mac's a daddy. Life's gonna change, you know."

Mac actually sobered a bit. "Yeah, I know. But, it'll all be worth it."

"So they say," Dan added.

"Oh, c'mon, Dan, don't you want children?" Harry asked.

"Not especially. They're noisy and smelly and clingy." Dan sipped his drink.

"I like kids. They're fun, almost like having a dog," Bull added.

"Except you can dump the dog in the backyard at the end of the day," Dan added. "But, really, Mac, that's great news."

"So, Harry, Christine want kids?" Bull asked.

"Oh, three or four, depending on what day it is."

"Wow, that's a lot."

"What about Eve, Dan? She want kids?"

"We've – ah – never discussed it." He shifted in his chair, not sure why he was uncomfortable with the topic.

"Oh."

Mac got up to get the drinks, and Bull drifted to the dance floor.

Harry scooted his chair closer to Dan. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Those poor people better watch out. I've seen Bull dance, and it's not pretty."

"That's not what I meant. I mean Eve. She's been, I don't know, a little strange lately. Quiet. Different. You two aren't fighting, are you?"

"No. And, she's just still . . . upset about what happened. It bothers her. She has these nightmares . . ." Dan trailed off. He wanted to talk to someone about it, but she might not want him telling.

"She was one upset gal. But, she'll be alright. It's the southern belle charm. Makes 'em stronger than they look."

"I just hope we'll be alright," Dan muttered.

"She's not thinking about leaving. Is she?" Harry asked incredulously

Dan cleared his throat. He thought about the ring sitting in his sock drawer at home. Although he was just as confident in his own feelings for her as he had ever been, he was a little afraid of hers. Things had changed. And he didn't know how to change it back. "She's afraid of it happening again. With someone else pulling the trigger. Someone else I've angered over the years."

"This is New York. Any of us could get mugged anytime, anyplace."

"Dragging any of this out of her is like pulling teeth."

Harry leaned back in his chair. "This should be old hat to you."

"Huh?"

"You're an expert at hiding from folks. How's it feel now that the shoe's on the other foot?"

"Honestly, it stinks."

"Thought it would."

* * *

Dan let himself into her apartment with his key. Moses glared at him from the back of the couch with one eye opened, yawned and went back to sleep.

She was asleep, face practically buried in her pillow. One of her legs was thrown out from underneath the covers. She looked vulnerable, and it made his heart ache.

He pulled off his tie, fully intending to climb in next to her and sleep like the dead.

Oops, bad analogy.

"Have fun?" she asked sleepily.

"Didn't mean to wake you," he tossed his coat over a chair.

"Just dozing," she said, yawning and stretching, her face buried in her pillow. "I didn't know you were coming by tonight."

The mattress creaked as he climbed in beside her. She scooted backwards until she was nestled against his chest. He threw his arm over her and pulled her close. "Can't sleep without you, anymore, Eviegirl."

"Don't think that's really what you had in mind," she mumbled grumpily, but rolled over anyway.

When his lips met hers, he forgot all about his conversation with Harry, his worries about her and the ring back at his condo.

This beautiful, wonderful creature loved him, and that's all that mattered.


	24. Coffee at the Kentucky Line

The phone jangled in her ear. She tried to ignore it. Probably a wrong number.

Maybe Dan will get it.

Oh, wait. He's not here. He want home an hour ago.

But, as soon as it finally stopped, she drifted off to sleep, it rang again.

"Son of a . . ."

She flopped over and reached across the bed. "'Lo."

"Eve, it's Marcus."

"Marcus? What are you doing calling at . . ." she reached for her alarm clock "1:30 in the morning?" This couldn't be good. Her grandmother's right-hand man had never called her before for any reason. "What's wrong? Is it Gran?"

She heard him blow out a breath. "I hate to tell you this over the phone, but Zelda had a heart attack."

Eve sat bolt upright in bed. Not her grandmother, the tough woman who raised her and kept everyone in the county straight and on-their-toes. Nothing could faze her. She was never sick a day in her life.

"Is she . . . alright? Where is she now?" Not more hospitals and doctors. It had been a couple of month since Dan was shot. She didn't think she could stand it.

Marcus didn't say anything, and she realized he was crying. Marcus never cried, not as long as she had known him, which was practically all her life.

"Marcus?" Her voice was full of fear.

"She's gone, Eve. She was gone before the ambulance got her to the hospital. I found her in the barn. She had gone out there in the middle of the night to check on the new foals, and she . . . died. Right there."

Eve didn't know what to say. Her beloved grandmother, her only family . . . "I'll . . . I'll be there as soon as I can."

She hung up the phone softly, not waiting for a reply. And immediately sprung into action.

She was heading south out of town within the hour. She made mental lists of things that would have to be done until the sun rose, trying to keep a toe-hold on her emotions. It made it easier to face, kept everything at bay, at least for a little while.

She stopped for gas and coffee at the Kentucky line, the sun well up over the horizon. To be in the middle of the night, traffic was snarled, and it had taken her longer than normal to get this far.

She dug in her purse for change. Her first call was to her supervisor. He told her not to worry, they'd fine someone to take her place at work, and take all the time off she needed.

Her second call was to Dan. He wasn't at home, so she dug out more change and tried him at work.

"Fielding." He sounded so professional, but he probably had his feet propped up on his desk reading the paper.

She took a deep breath. "Dan, it's me."

"Well, what is the pleasure of this phone call so early in the morning? I do hope it will be obscene."

She blew right past the innuendos. "I'm at a gas station this side of the Kentucky line. My grandmother died last night."

She heard a thunk, probably him putting his feet back on the floor. "Oh my God, why didn't you call me?"

"I . . . well, I didn't think about it. There wasn't anything you could do."

"I could have gone with you. Are you OK?" He sounded hurt.

"Marcus called not too long after you left. He was upset . . . I . . ." She dug her fingernails in her hand to keep from tearing up. "I just up and left right after that. I haven't talked to anyone but my supervisor."

"You didn't answer my question. Are you OK?" His concern carried well through the static.

"No . . . yes . . . I don't know. Just don't make me cry, OK? I still have another couple of hours left, and if I break down now, I might not make it."

He sighed. "I wish you'd have called me. Listen. Just be careful. Call me if you need me."

"I . . . I will."

"I love you, Eviegirl."

"I love you, too." God help her, she did.

She softly hung up the phone. Wiping her eyes on her shirt sleeve, she made her way to her truck to finish her journey.

* * *

Marcus was a mess. Eve had always wondered if the older man and her grandmother had been more than just employer/employee, but now she had no doubt in her mind. He was always such a gruff, stern character, and she had been so hoping on him to help her through this.

Looked like she was on her own.

By the time she got there, the community had been arriving with food and condolences. Her grandmother's part-time housekeeper and full-time friend, Agatha, was bustling about in her apron, tsking at the lack of space to put all the casseroles.

"You'd think we were feedin' an army, not just you and a couple of field hands," she muttered as she maneuvered dishes in the refrigerator.

Eve didn't stay at home long, just long enough to wash her face and throw on some decent clothes.

Next stop, the funeral home.

She had known the Jamesons for as long as she could remember. She had even gone to school with their son Ricky and now, apparently, Ricky had taken over the family business. His plump face was all professional concern for her as she had to make the choices, wondering how in Sam Hill she was going to pay for it.

The bank. She needed to go to the bank. That was moved closer to the top of her list.

There was not good news at the bank. She could pay for the funeral, but not much else. This was not a good year for her grandmother, and Eve tried her best not to dwell on the fact that maybe that was what caused the heart attack.

But, her grandmother had faced hard times before with her usual stalwart abilities, and it never seemed to bother her before.

But, she was older, her health wasn't as good, no matter what she tried to let people know . . .

People stopped her wherever she went, at the bank, the doctor's office, on the street. She had forgotten how fast news traveled around here and accepted their condolences with genuine thanks.

Driving back to the farm, she had to take stock of her blessings.

_OK, girl. You've got a community that loves you, that loves . . . loved Gran. The funeral is paid for. The farm is not mortgaged. Bills will get paid somehow._

Her mind trailed off. Summer was hot in Kentucky, but it was beautiful. The rolling green fields surrounded by black wooden fences were picturesque, and Eve found herself pulling off to the side of the road. Mr. Findley's cows looked at her curiously then went back to chewing their cud as she got out and leaned on her truck, soaking it all in.

Her grandmother would have loved today, probably been out on the property helping to mend a fence or shoe a horse. Or maybe planting flowers with the ladies' auxiliary down at the courthouse. Probably riding her prize gelding Rose to the creek, watching as the horses grazed in the field surrounding her home . . .

Before she realized it, tears were streaming down her face. She buried her face in her hands and wept.

* * *

Agatha got one look at her face when she stumbled back in the house and sent her to bed. Back in her old bedroom, still complete with softball trophies and frilly bedspread, she fell across the bed and into a deep sleep.

She didn't know how long she was there, but something was licking her face, tongue warm.

And, something smelled delicious!

She opened one eye, wondering what her grandmother was cooking for dinner that smelt so wonderful. Except . . .

Gran was gone.

She wanted to curl back up into a ball and go right back to dreamland.

But, no, that damned tongue kept licking her!

"Hey, Charley," Eve muttered. She was rewarded with a couple of tail thumps on the wooden floor. Her grandmother's ancient German Shepard was looking at her expectantly, licking her face to get her to wake up. Eve scratched the dog's ears. "You miss Gran, don't you?"

Another tail thump.

"Me, too."

Before she could get up, another Shepard, this one darker and younger came bouncing into the room and onto her bed.

"OK, Starla, you know better!" she laughed. "Gran will . . ." Her smile faded, and she wrapped her arms around her grandmother's pet, burying her face in its fur. The dog sat there patiently.

"Starla! Charley! Get yo' hides down off Miss Eve's bed for I nail them to the wall!"

The dogs knew that tone and immediately got down and sat obediently on the floor.

Agatha stood in the doorway, her large frame blocking most of the light from the hallway. "You ready to eat, chile?"

"I don't think I've eaten since last night." After work, she and Lynette had ordered a pizza and watched an old black-and-white movie before Dan had come over.

Agatha put her hands on her ample hips. "Looks to me like you hadn't eaten in a month! Get yo' tail down here and put some meat on yo' young bones!"

"Yes, ma'am." Eve never argued with Agatha. She wouldn't win, anyway.

The food was wonderful, and despite her sadness, she managed to eat, all under Agatha's watchful eye.

After forking the last crumb of Betty Maple's cornbread into her mouth, she laid her napkin down. "That was wonderful!"

Agatha stood up to clear the table. "Folks 'round here surely know how to cook. Good folks, too. Good folks." Her last words held a lot of emotion. Eve stood up to help her, and they fell into the old pattern of wash and dry she used to have with her grandmother.

"How did everything go today?"

Eve scrubbed at a stuck-on stain in a casserole dish. "Fine. I guess. It's all so . . . so surreal. It doesn't seem like just last night that Marcus called to tell me . . ."

"You holdin' up real fine, Miss Eve. Strong stuff. Just like yo' grandmother." She used the dish towel to wipe her eyes.

"Well, Mr. Findley's cattle will attest to the fact that I cried all over the hood of my truck this afternoon."

Agatha patted her back. "Tears are fine. They'll be lots of them in the coming days, I imagine."

They worked silently for a moment. "Agatha?"

"What, honey?"

"Did you know? That Gran had been, well, that she had been having heart problems?"

"Honey, didn't nobody know but her, Doc Starnes and the good Lord. You know she didn't' tell nobody nothin' like that."

"I just wish she would have told me."

"And why? We all goin' die, hon. Yo' Gran has lived a good, long life and done lots of good for lots of folks. Tellin' you her heart was failin' wasn't goin' to do you any bit of good. Just make you fret even more."

Eve bit her lip to keep the tears at bay. "I would have liked to say . . . good-bye. And tell her how much I love her and that . . ." The tears fell in earnest now. "And that I thank God every day that she raised me."

Even Agatha's eyes teared up. "You know she loved you. And she was proud of you, too. Livin' in that dreadful city, all by yourself. But, she did worry about you some, 'specially after that lawyer boyfriend of yours done gone off and had himself shot! She wanted to fly up there to be with you, but I told her no, Miss Eve's a strong woman. Takes after her grandma. She'll be fine. No matter what happens. And you were." Agatha shook her head. "'Sides, ain't no place for a lady, that city."

"I didn't mean to worry her . . ." Eve fiddled with the dish rag in her hands.

"She would have worried about you if you married that funeral home boy and had a passel of young'uns. You was her only family."

Eve threw her arms around her grandmother's oldest friend. "I'm just glad she had you all those years. She loved you like a sister."

"Oh, don't go tellin' me that, now!" Agatha sniffed. "I've got things to do, and if I sit here bawlin' like a baby, none of it will get done!"

Eve let her go, wiping her eyes. "I'll go take Marcus a plate."

"You'll do no such thing," Agatha shook her finger at Eve. "You don't need to be trampin' around them young mens out at that ranch house! I'll take them a basket of food shortly."

_I'll have to work with them eventually._

That was the first time she realized that she was the only one left. The only one to carry on the Cantrell family legacy in Bourbon County. Her grandmother had inherited this farm with its good name and bloodlines from her father after her brother was killed in World War I. Not only had she continued helping it thrive, but it flourished under her care.

Now, Eve was it. Her father, her grandmother's only child, died so long ago, and there were no cousins or nieces or nephews. Just her.

It was a daunting thought. One she didn't feel up to thinking on quite yet.

* * *

Yes, we're leaving Manhattan for a bit, but I promise we'll be back. And, I promise it won't be dull, either!


	25. Old Blue Hair

The next day, the visitors came in earnest. Neighbors, church family, local government officials. You name it, they tramped through her grandmother's parlor all day long.

Her best friend showed up early that morning to help her, little five-year old Callie in tow. Cindy had gotten pregnant their last year of high school, shameful in the heart of the Bible belt, and the father had skipped town. But, Cindy had stuck around and made the best out of what she could, Eve and Gran helping her out more times than not. Cindy was family.

"We loved your grandmother so. She'll be missed."

"She was a wonderful light in our community."

"She was so proud of you. Livin' in New York and all."

No one asked, politeness wouldn't allow it, but they all wanted to know one thing: are you staying? What will happen to the farm now?

Honestly, Eve didn't know, either. She liked her life in New York, but Kentucky was her home. It was in her blood. As much as she wanted to run away from it at first, she now realized it was where she belonged.

She didn't even try to think about where Dan fit into this picture. The idea of him living on a farm was laughable, at the least. His goal was Washington DC, and she doubted Bourbon County was an acceptable substitute.

He called after she went to bed the night before, and she hadn't called him back. She should. She really should. But, only one crises at a time.

By the time she fell into bed the next night, she was ready to sleep.

* * *

It was a hot summer evening in Kentucky by the time she, Marcus and Agatha arrived at the funeral home to accept visitors. The police were on hand, realizing that traffic would be terrible.

Eve nodded at Robert, a freckle-faced kid who was younger than her, as he pointed Agatha's big red Lincoln into the spot reserved for family. The sight of him in the police uniform made her feel old.

One-by-one, she stood by her Gran's opened casket and accepted their tears and condolences. She didn't realize this many people lived in their tiny community, but all of them had to be there.

She knew who their families were and what they did for a living and who had an uncle in prison and who didn't go to church on Sunday. Her history was as wrapped up with theirs as it could be. She would never get away from it, and now, she didn't know if she wanted to.

Ricky had thoughtfully cranked the air conditioner down. With all the bodies packed so tightly in the flower-scented room, it was quite obvious that summer was in full swing.

Although she held a tissue crumpled in her hand, she was too busy consoling others to cry herself. Oh sure, there were plenty times she could have broken down, but she couldn't do it. Tears were for private. Her grandmother wouldn't have done it. She didn't shed a tear during her beloved husband's funeral, although there were plenty shed in the privacy of her home.

Eve was determined she would be just as strong now that she was the only Cantrell left to continue that tradition.

* * *

Dan didn't think he was ever going to find the place. He had driven past so many cows and horses and chickens and farmers on tractors that he thought he must have driven to California. After getting lost at one point and having to sit through a bunch of directions that included phrases such as 'turn left where the old 76 station used to be' and 'if you get to the old sycamore on the right, you've gone too far,' he breathed a sigh of relief when he passed the sign that said "Welcome to Plum."

Plum? Who named a town Plum, anyway?

It didn't take him long to figure out where to be. Traffic was snarled around the antebellum funeral home for a block, consisting mostly of mud-covered pick-up trucks. Dan drummed his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, resisting the very New York urge to honk his horn uncontrollably.

But, he figured that would make him stick out like a sore thumb.

The red-headed police officer that directed him into the parking lot looked about 12 years old, but he did his job well enough.

Finally, we wedged his Mercedes in between a Ford truck without the bed and an ancient International truck with a bumper sticker that read "If it ain't beef, it ain't meat."

He struggled out of the car and stretched, then reached for his tie, knotting it around his neck.

Out of habit, he locked the car, although no one would probably mess with a thing if he left all the doors wide opened. He ignored the curious stares from people streaming out of the funeral home. His tailor-made suit and tie probably were a little out of place, come to think of it.

He was greeted by another baby-faced looking man who directed him to the line, which had stretched into the lobby. Dan debated on barging his way into the room, but after glancing at the rather large, muscle bound farmers in line, decided against it.

Everyone certainly seemed to know everyone else, and he was obviously the stranger. He brushed it off. He was a New Yorker, and brushing people off was an art form.

"You're not from around here, are you, sonny?" The little old, blue-haired lady in front of him had been studying him since he got here.

Dan resisted the urge to comment on the 'lovely' shade of her hair, but figured that would be a bad idea. She probably had a .45 in her purse. "No, I'm not."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're not from the bank are you? Shame on you on messing with that fine family during their troubled times!"

He was a little taken aback. "Uh . . . no. I'm a friend. Of Eve's. From New York."

That comment didn't go over any better. "Oh, a Yankee, huh?"

"Well, I'm originally from Louisiana."

That seemed to soothe the little biddy, and she backed off.

For once, he thanked his lucky stars for his home state.

The line moved quickly enough. Very efficient. Just like Eve.

He was finally able to at least catch a glimpse of her as she stood next to a rather formidable looking black woman and an older gentleman that looked like he had been run through the ringer. She hugged and kissed and shook hands just as effortlessly as a politician. But, she knew these people, he could tell by the way she asked them questions and smiled at their comments. Not once did she look up, too busy with her familial duties. Which was fine with Dan. He was happy just to watch.

She still hadn't seen him when Old Blue Hair's turn came next. "Oh, honey, we're so sorry about your grandma. She was the loveliest woman. Made the meanest batch of fried green tomatoes you ever had. You remember when we had that Fourth of July party, and my little great nephew Maurice ate them all and got sick?" She patted Eve on the arm.

Eve smiled. "Yes, ma'am, I remember. How's he doing, now? He's what, about 9 or 10?"

Old Blue Hair drew herself up to full height, which was probably 4 feet, 10 inches. "He's goin' be a doctor, just like his daddy."

"Well, that's good, Mrs. Atkinson."

She patted Eve again. "It's real good to see you, hon. Hope you stay around. Your grandma would have wanted it that way."

Her smile wasn't so genuine now. "Yes, ma'am."

_Stay?_

Dan hadn't thought about that.

Eve didn't want to think of it either, but everyone sure had been dropping hints. She had hours of standing and greeting, and her feet were protesting beyond disbelief.

She sent noisy Mrs. Atkinson on her way and turned to greet the next person in line.

"Hey, Eviegirl."

Her eyes widened. "Dan!"

For a moment, he thought she looked like she was going to protest his presence. Although he had been so sure this was the right thing to do, he began to have his doubts.

Until she wrapped her arms around him.

While he was watching her, she seemed like a calm, steadfast woman who could face anything, even the death of her only family member.

But, he could feel her trembling just a bit and knew it was all she could do to hold it together.

"I'm so glad you're here," she whispered into his shirt.

"Well, you wouldn't call me back, so what was I supposed to do?" he joked.

Someone cleared their throat, and he looked up into a stare that would have put Roz to shame.

Eve let him go. "Agatha, this is Dan. Dan, this is my grandmother's best friend, Agatha."

Agatha gave him the once-over. "Dandy-lookin' fellow, aren't you? Thinks he's mighty handsome in that suit."

Dan straightened his coat, wondering if charm would work on this woman giving him the evil eye. "I'd like to think so."

It didn't. She just harrumphed and swished off.

"Don't mind her. She's always like that," Eve whispered. "And, this is Marcus. He's Gran's . . . uh . . . foreman."

They shook hands, Marcus looking more than a little dazed.

"I take it Marcus was a little more than a foreman, huh?" Dan whispered as he wandered away to stare into the casket.

"I didn't know it then, but yeah, I figured it out," Eve replied.

She couldn't believe he was here! It never crossed her mind to ask him to come, and she didn't even realize she wanted him to be here herself until he showed up.

There were only a few stragglers left inside, and by the time they left, it was late. She opted to ride with Dan, making Agatha harrumph once again.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning, Miz Eve. I guess you won't be needin' me to pick you up." She gave Dan another glare, but by now, he was used to it. But, Agatha had another thought, and her eyes narrowed. "How did you get a room in town? The only hotel is booked for the big Okra Festival this weekend."

Dan looked at Eve for help. She easily intervened. "Oh, Agatha, don't worry about that. You've done enough to help out. I'm sure the boys would love to make room for him, don't you think?"

Agatha didn't like it one bit. "I guess so. Now, behave yourselves. Don't be messin' 'round with yo' grandma hardly cold." She turned, ample hips swaying and crawled into her Lincoln.

They watched her drive away.

Dan looked at her. "The boys? Who are these boys?"

"Field hands. They help out on the farm." Although now, she didn't know how she would pay them. "And, I'm not going to make you sleep with them. I had to get her off our backs somehow."

He opened the door for her in the now-empty parking lot. "I have a distinct feeling she'll know anyway. Seems to be the MO around here."

"No kidding."

He pulled off his coat and tie and tossed them in the backseat. Eve was leaning against the headrest, eyes closed.

"I know you've probably had a rough time, and I'm sorry I haven't been here sooner, but there was this case . . ."

"Don't worry about it, Dan." She took his hand. "I'm just glad you're here now."

"Good. Now where to? And don't say turn at the old gas station because I've had as much of those directions as I'm going to take."

She laughed, a good sound to his ears. "It's not far."

She didn't say much on the ride home except to give him directions, and he kept quiet. It was a long drive from New York, and he could probably use some sleep, too.

Although it was dark, he could tell the house was well-kept. It was painted white, with one large dormer on the second story and a porch across the entire front. There were rocking chairs and a swing swaying in the balmy evening breeze. Flowers were everywhere, and their scent filled the air. A little ways off was another house, smaller, with a light on inside. Dan figured that was the field house. A large barn was behind it, and even in the moonlight, he could see horses milling about. It would have been a wonderful place to grow up, and he suddenly realized where her serenity came from.

"Nice," he said thoughtfully.

Eve was taking it all in, too. "Thanks. It is."

Just then, two monstrous dogs came bounding around the house, barking. They saw Eve and were beside themselves for attention.

"Charley! Starla! Down!"

Obediently, they sat, starring up at her adoringly.

"Good dogs. Now, behave."

"There – ah – kinda big? Aren't they?"

Eve scratched behind the older one's ears. "They're just big babies."

Dan gave them a wide berth anyway.

The inside of the house was as neat and trim as the outside. Although the traffic through there must have been awful the past few days, the wooden floors were so clean, you could eat off them.

She shed her heels at the door. "Make yourself at home. There's plenty to eat in the fridge. Bedroom's upstairs on the right."

Relieved that he really wouldn't be sleeping with a bunch of strange men, he made his way up the stairs, lined with pictures of family. Eve starred in most of them. He would have liked to stop and look closer, but the idea of getting out of his travel-worn clothes appealed to him more.

Eve was standing at the sink, looking out the window in the kitchen when he came downstairs, this time taking time to study the photos. He came up behind her and kissed her neck.

"Lookin' serious there, babe."

She smiled wanly. "Just thinking. Here. Eat some of this. I'm so tired of eating, I could scream."

They ate in comparative silence, then went upstairs to bed, Eve turning off lights as she went. The dogs clambered over themselves to get there first, and they curled up on the floor on her side.

"They miss Gran," Eve said simply. "I think she let them sleep in the bed with her."

"When Marcus wasn't there."

"Apparently. G'night. Love you."

"Love you, too."

She snuggled up against his side, wearing only an old T-shirt and was soon asleep.

He lay there, listening to the house settle and her even breathing, wondering how he got so lucky.


	26. The Mosquito Gods

Eve couldn't sleep long. There was too much to think about. The funeral. The bills. The field hands. The horses.

Her future.

She carefully moved Dan's arm from around her waist and snuck from the bed, tiptoeing around the snoring dogs.

The night air was humid, so she didn't bother with a blanket, although the mosquitoes would probably have a field day.

The swing groaned and creaked when she settled into it. In the distance, she could hear a horse whinnying. The train though Elmer's Crossroad's blew its horn sounding as lonesome as a Hank Williams song. All sounds she was accustomed to. Sounds of home.

And, it was still home. Always would be.

Dan's car looked out of place parked next to her old pick-up and her Gran's shiny new Dodge, dew beading on the hood.

Eve made a mental note to see how much was owed on it, if anything. Her Gran didn't usually buy anything on credit, but if times had been as bad as people are

saying . . .

_Don't think about that now. Think of something else._

The horses seemed to be doing well. There were plenty of good stock, and the hands were busy training. Of course, there was a sick filly, which required the vet, and then the fence was down on the back side of the property, which meant buying replacement slats and . . .

_OK, don't think about that either._

Her eyes wandered back to Dan's car.

He came all this way. For her. And right in the middle of trying to make the next judge's list that was to come out soon. He had his heart set on being a judge and really thought he had a chance this time. Roz said she brought out the kinder, gentler Dan, and maybe that was to his advantage. 'Smoothing the rough edges,' she called it.

He wasn't leaving New York.

Hell, was _she_ even leaving New York?

_Nope. Not going to think about it. Get through the funeral. Then, think about it._

* * *

Whining woke him up.

"Eve, I think your monster dog needs to go out." He sleepily reached for her.

She was gone, the covers cool to the touch.

He raised up. "Eve?"

She wasn't in the room, but the two Shepards were sitting side-by-side staring at him with soulful eyes.

"I'm not breakfast."

One of them thumped its tail at his voice, so he figured they weren't aggressive.

"Eve?" he called a little louder. There was no answer.

He looked at the dogs. "Any ideas?"

One of them woofed and trotted from the room.

"OK . . ."

Dan followed.

The dog ran down the stairs and to the front door, scratching on it with a massive paw.

He got it.

Feeling like a trained human, he opened it, and the balmy air floated over him, a distinct difference from the air-conditioning coolness inside.

Both dogs bounded outside.

"Eve?"

"I'm right here." She was sitting in the shadows, one foot curled underneath her, the other on the floor, idly pushing the creaky swing back and forth.

"Want company?" She looked so at home there, he didn't want to bother her if she didn't want to be.

She patted the seat next to her, and he settled into it, the swing groaning under their weight.

He looked up apprehensively. "Will it hold us up?"

"Don't you know creaky swings are the rule in the south? If you have one that doesn't squeak, something's wrong."

"Oh, of course. Silly me." He draped his arm behind her, his fingers barely touching her shoulder.

He sat with her for a moment, enjoying the silence. Something there wasn't a lot of back in New York.

But, he could never be quiet for long.

"So, why are you sitting out here offering yourself to the mosquito gods?" He didn't mean to sound flippant, but he was afraid he did.

"Just thinking. About Gran. How much she loved this place. What it meant to her. And to me."

He had to ask her something that had been on his mind. "Ah, someone at the funeral home, that old blue haired biddy . . ."

"Mrs. Atkinson," she added.

"Right. She asked me if I was from the bank and proceeded to almost beat me with her purse, saying I needed to leave the family alone." He pulled her closer to him, enjoying the feel of her next to him. "I know it may not be any of my business, but you've never mentioned any . . . problems." He trailed off.

She seemed to think carefully before she spoke. "I went to the bank. There's no mortgages, but some bills are coming due. I don't think Gran could pay them even before the costs of a funeral were added in."

"They're not going to take the farm away, are they?"

It touched her that he sounded so alarmed. "No, but some of the equipment may have to be . . . repossessed." She hated that word, loathed it even. It meant failure, and she had a hard time with that. So did her grandmother.

He cleared his throat. "Is there anything I can do?"

She patted his knee. "This is my concern, not yours."

He kissed the side of her head, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. "It should be."

"What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.

Just where was that damn ring, anyway? Oh yeah, upstairs.

Hell, who needs the thing. "Marry me, Eve."

She tensed next to him. "Well, you know how to make a girl feel special, don't you?" she teased, trying to sound light.

This was easier than he thought. "No, I'm serious. Marry me. Your problems will become my problems."

"Dan? Aren't you supposed to be on one knee for this?" _He couldn't be serious. Could he?_

He jumped up so fast that the swing rocked wildly. "Be right back. Don't go anywhere."

"I know about the ring." She blurted it out before she realized it.

He turned to look at her. Even in the dark, she could tell he was perplexed.

"It was in your coat pocket. The night you were shot. I was looking for a tissue . . ." Her heart was pounding so hard, she was surprised he couldn't hear it.

He made a face. "Well, so much for surprises, huh?" He sat back down. "You know, this didn't go quite like I thought it should."

"Nothing in life ever works out like you think it should." Eve probably sounded more bitter than she wanted. To make up for it, she took his hand. "Do you really mean it?"

"Well, of course. I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't."

She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back. "I just . . . don't think I can make that decision right now. So much going on. Can I . . . think about it?"

"Sure." This wasn't how he pictured it. At all. He couldn't shake the nagging feeling that if she really wanted to marry him, there would be no need to think about it. But, her grandmother just died, and she has to deal with closing the estate and so many other things. So, maybe that really was it. Maybe she just had more on her plate right now than necessary.

He let go of her hand and kissed her temple. "I'm going back upstairs."

She pulled him to her and kissed him, long and slow. Made him feel a little better. "I'll be up there in a little while."

He went back upstairs, the dogs staying at her feet. She heard him climb the stairs, then everything was silent.

How come his proposal was all she had been wanting, but suddenly, it wasn't enough? It couldn't bring her grandmother back or keep him safe from any other crazy nut jobs running around New York or make a decision for her when it came to staying in Kentucky or returning to Manhattan.

She stayed outside for a long time, with only the dogs, mosquitoes and her thoughts for company.

* * *

She was downstairs drinking coffee when he stumbled into the kitchen the next morning. She pointed to the pot, and he staggered towards it gratefully.

"You never came back upstairs last night," he said matter-of-factly once he had taken a few sips.

"I fell asleep on the swing. Marcus and the boys woke me up at dawn doing chores in the barn." She scratched a mosquito bite on her thigh. "I think I'm going to regret it. There's a breakfast casserole in the oven if you're hungry." Actually, there were three of them, but Agatha had frozen the other two for later.

Eve couldn't help but wonder if all that frozen food would have to last her for longer than she would have liked.

"There you go again."

Dan's voice snapped her back to reality. "Huh?"

"You have that look on your face. The one that says, 'boy, I wish I didn't have to think about that now.'"

She chuckled. "Am I that obvious?"

"To me, you are." He pulled his chair closer to hers and took both of her hands in his. "Are you alright? Because if this is about last night . . ."

"No, that's not it. There's just . . . other issues out there right now. I've got to do the right thing, and now, I don't know what the right thing is."

She hated the momentary look of hurt on his face, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you, you know. I always will."

"I know. I just wish you'd tell me what was going on."

"If I thought telling you would help, I would. But, let's get past the funeral, and things will probably look better." Eve really didn't think so, but she wanted to reassure him.

They dressed for the funeral, taking turns in the lone shower. She chose a demure black dress with a black straw hat that actually belonged to her grandmother, topping it off with her pearls. The sun could be brutal, and if the preacher got long-winded at the graveside, she'd be glad she had it for the shade.

She was sitting at her little dressing table, brushing powder on her face when he sat the little box down in front of her.

"Now, I'm not telling you to wear it, and as fate may have it, you've already seen it. But, hold onto it."

Eve wished with all her heart she could just tell him yes. That's what her heart wanted to do. But, her mind knew it was a bad idea. A real bad idea. He wouldn't live here, and she apparently couldn't live in New York. Maybe. She didn't know.

She hesitantly picked up the small box and glanced up at him. He had a small smile on his face, his dark eyes searching hers.

Any protest she had about holding onto it died on her lips. "Have I ever told you how much I like you in a black suit?"

He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "And, have I ever told you how much I like you in nothing at all?"

"You better behave yourself." She shook her finger at him.

He took her hand and kissed it. "What? Me not behave? Surely, you jest."

She brushed a bit of lint from his jacket with her free hand. "I think my grandmother would have liked you. She had a thing for rogues."

"Sounds like my kind of woman. Sorry I didn't get to meet her."

Eve felt her eyes tear up. "Watch it. It took me forever to get this eye make-up on. Don't let me ruin it before the funeral starts."

* * *

The funeral was hot. And long. The preacher droned on and on about Zelda Cantrell's life and good works that Eve felt her mind drifting from time to time.

_Gran would have hated this_.

What Gran would have wanted was a party. A large party with all her friends with a live band and dancing. And beer. Lots of beer to keep the guests happy.

Preacher wouldn't have been too happy about that.

Although Gran was a stalwart Baptist, she wasn't too keen on the preacher. She said he had too much starch in his shorts.

Agatha snuffled next to her and automatically, Eve handed her a tissue and patted her on the arm. Agatha looked at her warmly, making sure Dan knew he was not included in her benevolence.

Eve linked her arm through Dan's. She had insisted he sit with her as family, although he was a little reluctant to do so. By now, the town had to know he was here and who he was, so she just made it a little easier on the few who didn't.

Finally, the stuffy little service was over, and they followed the casket to the hearse, watching as it was loaded.

It seemed like the entire town was on hand for the funeral, and they all snaked their way a few miles down the road to the Evergreen Baptist Cematery.

It went downhill from there.

Agatha sang "Angel Band," one of Gran's favorite songs at the graveside, and Eve felt her careful resolve to make her Gran proud by holding her head up crumble.

Gran was gone. Never again would she ride her beloved horses or chair a committee to help save a historical monument or walk the hills with her only granddaughter, telling her stories of how things used to be and how they ought to still be.

Tears rolled down her face no matter how hard she tried to stop them.

Dan's hand was warm on her back, comforting, as he stood next to her. She briefly thought of the little box tucked safely in the bottom of her purse.

_Gran, what am I going to do? _

* * *

For some reason, I couldn't picture a sappy way for Dan to ask Eve to marry him. I figured it would go more like this. Sorry if you're disappointed! Oh, and there's 7 more chapters left (in case you're counting!).


	27. I Am Not A Chicken

I've gone out on a limb again and am not following the show. Just humor me, 'kay? - tonygirl

* * *

"To Dan Fielding. May your courtroom always be friendly and your verdicts be true." Harry held up his glass of banana brandy, all he could commandeer for the occasion.

"Here, here!" Mac seconded.

Dan made a face. "Boy, that's awful stuff! Couldn't you have at least stolen a bottle of gin from a wino or something?"

"Didn't think you'd mind."

Dan grinned. "True. I've finally got my bench," he draped his arm over Eve's shoulder's, "my woman by my side. Nothing can bring me down now!" He swallowed the rest of his drink and shuddered.

_Wanna bet_.

But Eve wisely kept it to herself. They had heard tonight that Dan had made the judge's list. Finally. She wouldn't dampen his enthusiasm with her little bit of news. Not yet, at least.

"You've been quiet tonight, Eve," Christine said.

"It's her first night back. Takes awhile to get back into the swing of things," Roz sidled up, catching onto the conversation.

Dan had left Kentucky reluctantly the day of the funeral, and she had stayed a few days longer to get an idea of what was going on in her grandmother's estate.

The longer she stayed, the worse it was.

The farm was not going to make it without some serious intervention, financially and physically.

Eve shook herself back to reality. "Thanks for the flower arrangement. It was beautiful."

"Believe it or not, it was Bull's idea. Sometimes, I think he's smarter than we give him credit for," Roz mentioned.

It wasn't too long before everyone trickled home for the evening. Dan was in high spirits as he wove his way through still-crowded streets, whistling a little tune.

Eve wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt and tried not to fidget. She felt the ring in her pocket and fought dread, rehearsing in her mind what she was going to say.

"You alright? You've been mighty quiet tonight," he asked as they walked inside his condo.

"Oh, just tired. It was a long drive."

"It looks a whole helluva lot closer on a map." He held the door open as she walked inside, then shut and locked it behind them. "Now, it's time for a real drink." He tossed his keys on the sideboard, along with his coat and made his way to the bar. "Any requests?"

Eve stood awkwardly in the foyer. "Uh . . . no. Nothing for me."

Dan poured himself a generous glass of scotch. "Harry really needs to take some lessons in bartending."

"I guess if magic's not involved, he's out."

Her attempt at levity had the desired affect. Dan laughed. "True, true." He flopped down on the leather couch and patted the seat beside him. "It feels like I haven't seen you in ages." While she was gone, they talked on the phone every night, Eve tiptoeing around the facts of the farms possible demise. She had missed him, too.

But, she couldn't think about that.

_It's now or never, Eviegirl_.

"Dan, I need to talk to you." She laid her purse down near the door and perched precariously on the couch next to him.

He laid his drink down, sensing her serious tone. "What's on your mind, Eviegirl?"

She took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her ears. Her carefully rehearsed speech flew out of her mind. "I . . .uh . . . things are bad at home. Worse than I thought."

"You didn't mention that when we talked." His tone was concerned.

She brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "Yeah, well, it got worse as the days went by. There's no mortgage on the farm, but there are big bills at the feed store and the lumber yard. Some of the boys hadn't been paid in a couple of weeks, and I cleaned out my checking account to pay them. I had to let them go. It's just Marcus. I couldn't pry him away from there with a two-by-four. The barn needs a new roof, and the plumbing in the house needs some serious repairs. Not to mention new fencing and feed and vet bills . . ." She stopped for a moment. "I don't know why Gran never told me, but I'm through with worrying about that. What's done is done."

Dan picked up his drink and sipped, afraid of where this was going. "Well? What are you going to do? Sell?"

"I can't do that! That farm has been in my family for generations, and I won't lose it on my watch."

She said it so vehemently, that he believed her. One hundred percent.

"Dan, I put in my two-week notice tonight. I'm going home."

He didn't react at first, the alcohol running through his system slowing his reaction time. But, it didn't take him long. "Do you even know anything about running a farm?"

Wrong thing to say. "I lived on one all my life. I know more than you think I do." Her voice had a haughty tone to it.

"That's not what I meant." What did he mean, exactly? "I meant, if it's this far gone, do you think you can save it?"

Eve swallowed another bitter retort. No need in making this worse than it already was. "I mortgaged it. Paid the creditors. Now, I've got to keep from losing it. Marcus and I put together a game plan that I think will work, but with the boys gone, it'll be hard. But, we'll manage." If the good Lord was willing.

Dan jumped up, suddenly full of nervous energy. "Why didn't you tell me? Talk to me about it? We could have come up with something together. There has to be another way!" He found his way to the bar and poured himself another drink.

Her heart sank at his reaction. She had toyed with the idea of asking him to go with her, but obviously, that was out of the question, especially now that he was appointed to the bench. And, he obviously didn't like her returning to Kentucky, so why would he even go with her?

"There was no other way. This was it. And, it's not your battle to fight. It's mine and mine alone." She swallowed hard, dreading her next words.

He looked at her from the bar, almost as if she were a stranger. "What do you mean, 'your fight'? What about us? Do I not mean enough to you to be included in this . . . this whatever it is?"

She stood up, feeling old beyond her years. "Dan, you do. You mean so much to me. But . . ." _Here goes._ "But, your place is here. You'll be a judge. You'll go onto DC and make a name for yourself. My place is Kentucky. It's where I belong. Where I never should have left."

He gripped the decanter so hard, he could feel the ridges in the crystal biting into his hands. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that our paths aren't running in the same direction. I'm saying that . . ." She lost her train of thought at the hurt expression on his face. One that immediately turned into anger.

"So, you're telling me you're giving up? On us? After all we've been through?"

"There's no other way . . ."

"What about a long-distance relationship?" He was grasping at straws, and he knew it. But, he had to do something to keep the woman he loved from running out on him. No matter how unrealistic is sounded.

She was shaking her head. "That wouldn't work. You know it, and I know it."

He was quiet for a moment. "So, that's it? It's over. I . . ." He rubbed his eyes wearily. How could this evening had turned so sour so fast? "I think you're making a big mistake."

She didn't like her judgment being questioned. "Why? Because I'm choosing a hokey farm over you? That place means a lot to me. But, I don't expect you to understand when you ran so fast from your family in the first place." Low blow, and she knew it.

All it did was make him angrier. She could tell by the set of his jaw, his dark eyes flashing. "I'm not noble like you, and I never professed to be. But, I think I should have been consulted at some point. Since your decision affected me."

"Look . . ."

"No, _you_ look! I know you pride yourself on being _sooo_ sensible," he threw his hands up to make a point, "but, if anyone knows it's me. Land won't make you happy. Horses won't make you happy. Hell, Marcus won't make you happy, although he seemed to fit your grandmother just fine. . ."

"Oh, so all the sudden you're this big expert on my happiness, huh? Only you can make me happy, is that it? Because, as much as I love you, my life does not center around you. And you're a selfish, boor-headed idiot to think any other way!"

Dan was having a hard time processing this, trying to cover his desperation at his life slipping through his fingers. "This is about Stiles, isn't it?"

That came out of left field. And, he was right. Stiles was part of it. "Well . . . being a judge can't be much easier."

"So, you're just running away. Taking the sensible way out and running as fast as you can back to safe little ol' Kentucky. I took you for a braver soul than that, Evelyn. But, I guess I was wrong."

"I am not a chicken. This isn't about you . . ."

She saw it just as plainly as anything. It had been so long since he'd used it against her, and it hurt to see it.

He was closing himself up.

"Fine! It's over! Now, leave!" He took a large swallow of scotch. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

She seriously wondered if she was making the right decision. Seeing him like this made her doubt any decision she had made.

He looked at her, full of barely-contained contempt. "Well? Anytime now?"

She swallowed her tears. She'd made her bed. Time to lie in it. Alone. Carefully, she pulled the ring box from her pocket and set it carefully on the table in front of the couch.

"I'm sorry, Dan . . ."

"Leave."

_Take some pride with you, Eviegirl._

Holding her head up, she made her way to the door and picked up her purse. Through her tears, she slung it over her shoulder, and back ramrod straight, she softly shut the door behind her.

* * *

The sight of that ring box sitting forlornly on the coffee table was the last straw. As hard as he could, Dan flung the decanter of scotch, still half-full. It shattered into a million pieces, staining the wall.

It didn't make him feel any better. He could have used that scotch.

* * *

"Ms. Cantrell, I received some interesting news tonight."

Eve was by now far accustomed to Harry's middle-of-the-session by-ways into personal conversations. But, this was one she could have done without right now. Not with Dan sulking near-by.

She pulled her hands away from the stenotype. "You mean my two-week notice?"

"I can't believe you didn't tell us. Give us some warning or something."

"That makes two of us," Dan mumbled, angrily flipping through a file at the prosecutor table.

Harry glanced at Dan, then back at Eve, but didn't comment.

"I thought that's what a two-week notice was – a warning that I was leaving."

"Well, since we're all your friends, I think we'd like to know. At least give us that much courtesy."

Eve did feel bad about that, but she didn't comment. She had been so caught up in these important decisions that it had slipped her mind that she could have received some assistance from them, at least a shoulder to cry on. Like Lynette.

Last night was awful. Lynette knew what she was going to do and was waiting on her with a glass of tea and a sympathetic shoulder. While she didn't expect Dan to take the news well, she sure hadn't expected such a fall-out. Or, maybe she had. Maybe she just wanted to get it over with. Maybe it made this whole mess that had become her life easier. In the long run. Certainly not now.

"I see your supervisor denied your request for transfer." Harry spoke in a lower tone, hopefully out of Dan's earshot. He had noticed how suddenly cold things were between the two of them, and didn't want to make anything worse than it already was.

Eve pursed her lips. That would have made things a while lot easier, if her supervisor had been willing to let her trade with someone. That way, she could avoid the totally lack of civility that had become Dan Fielding.

But, that's what you get when you fall in love with a co-worker.

"Apparently, it's hard enough to find someone to work this shift with two-week's notice, let alone at the last minute."

"Can the two of you work together?"

"I assure you, the personal issues between Ms. Cantrell and myself will not in any way obstruct our abilities to perform our duties." Dan had sidled up in the middle of their conversation. He glared at her as he spoke, and Eve didn't like it one bit.

"Well, thank you, Mr. Prosecutor, but I was speaking to the lady here." Harry could match Dan in the snobby department if he had to.

Dan didn't even try to look apologetic. He just shrugged.

"Yes, Judge, it'll be alright. It would have made things . . . easier, but I can manage if he can." She glared right back at him.

It was a downright foreign feeling. One day, they were madly in love and considering marriage, and the next . . . poof! . . . scorn and borderline hatred rears its ugly head.

_Maybe he never loved you, anyway, Eviegirl._

_And stop calling yourself Eviegirl!_

She was more relieved when the session was finally over. Dan was out of there not 10 seconds after Harry banged his gavel, refusing Harry's request to see him in his office. Eve hated that she even noticed.

Roz and Christine cornered her before she could get away, and she told them matter-of-factly what happened. Then, she excused herself as quickly as she could before her resolve ran out.

Her apartment seemed lonely. Her bedroom seemed even lonelier, especially after she spotted reminders of Dan - his toothbrush, a shirt tossed in the corner, a sock half-way hidden underneath the bed.

Moses startled her by rubbing against her leg. He usually wasn't that friendly. She picked the old cat up and buried her face in his fur, listening to him purr.

"You still love me, don't you, bud?" she asked, trying hard not to cry.

But, what was stopping her? She wasn't at work. She didn't have to put up a front. So, she sat in the floor and cried some more, her rescued cat cuddled in her lap, purring away.

Crying wasn't going to make it all go away or even make it better. So, after a few moments of self-pity, she grabbed a couple of boxes from the corner and tossed what needed to go back to Dan in one and what she wanted to keep in the other.

She put his shirt in the "To Keep" box.

* * *

He would have laughed at anyone that told him he was grieving.

Dan Fielding did not grieve.

He was just sitting in the dark in his study at home, his feet propped up on the desk, working his way through a new bottle of scotch and trying not to think about 'Her.'

That's what he had labeled her. Best way to distance himself was not even give her an identity in his mind.

That wasn't grieving. It was drinking. Getting shit-faced drunk, actually.

Men that drink alone need serious help. But, he couldn't muster the energy or even the need to return to the party scene. He tried to tell himself it was because he would be a judge, so he better act like one.

He knew that wasn't it. He had been an expert at lying to himself. Before Eve – oops, 'Her.'

Now, it looked like he needed to brush up on those particular skills.

There were stages to grieving when you lost a loved one. And, he had lost her just as sure as if she had died. Now, she just wasn't his anymore. He was in the anger stage. It was so easy to be angry at her, at her grandmother for leaving her with this mess and even with himself.

Yes, himself.

She didn't love him enough to find a way to make it work. She just decided all by her little self to leave. End of story. Tough break, sweetheart, but I'm going home. And, he had fallen for her so hard, trying to imagine his future without her was worse than bleak. It was downright morbid.

And, he sure didn't fight to keep her. No, siree, Bob, all he did was agree to her stupid little plan that didn't in any way include him. And, he still had to look at her, smell her perfume and ache for her for two more weeks until she was gone.

Who was he kidding? Not that it would get any better once she was gone.

Dammit, he loved her, and she didn't even _care_!

As luck would have it, he wasn't to begin his duties as a judge until one day after she left. He had tried to get it moved up, practically begging on his hands and knees to take over someone's position. Anyone's! But, no luck. So, he was stuck.

Those damn doe eyes of hers.

He gleaned some small amount of satisfaction to know she was hurting. In the few instances in court where they had to interact, he practically rubbed it in her face.

Dan didn't know why he did that, why he felt the need to shove people away from him when he really deep down inside wanted to beg her to reconsider. But, it was oh, so much easier to shove her away!

She was right all along. He kept people away from the real him to protect himself.

And, the one time he allowed someone close – surprise! – he was hurt. Badly.

Should have listened to his own advice.


	28. Charming as a Timber Rattler

Cindy was to arrive two days before Eve was to leave, using the excuse of having to help her finish packing.

"Since it'll be my last chance to see New York, I better take it while I can get it."

"Well, I'll be glad if I never see it again," Eve had replied bitterly, kicking at a harmless empty box sitting in the floor.

"Aw, Eve. You don't mean that."

"I do. I'm sick of the noise and the crowds and the smog and everything!"

"Can I ask you something?"

Eve propped her hip against the cabinet. "Sure."

"If this hadn't have happened with your grandmother, would you have told him yes. And stayed?"

Eve rubbed her itchy eyes. Sleep had been infrequent, and this was one question of many that haunted her. "There's no need to worry about that now. I'm lower than mud in his book." Dan had done a first rate job of avoiding her. When he did come into contact with her, he made sure he was as charming as possible. Charming as a timber rattler. "Let's not talk about that now. So, when will you get here? Is Callie excited?"

* * *

Eve really did enjoy showing Cindy and Callie the city: Central Park, the zoo, the Empire State Building. Although she really should have been finishing up with her packing, she wanted to take one last look herself. After all, she had called this place home for almost a year. So many things had happened to her, good and bad . . .

Lynette offered to entertain Callie while the two friends finished packing. It was nice to have the distraction from her own loneliness, and Eve was glad her friend was there.

"You better leave something out to wear to work tonight," Cindy, ever the sensible one, pointed out as they were piling her clothes in boxes.

"Oh. Right. One more night." Eve pulled out the first thing she found, a sleeveless pants suit. Summer in New York was almost as unpleasant as summer back home, and the temperamental air conditioning at the courthouse didn't even work half the time.

They were so busy packing and chatting that Eve barely had enough time to sprint into the building.

It hit her then as she wandered down the hallway, which was full of the usual suspects: hookers, bums, lowlifes.

This was her last night. She wouldn't see any of them again. Ever.

That thought almost made her stop in her tracks.

Roz and Christine had become such good friends, Roz always the voice of reason. And Bull. Her self-proclaimed protector. Mac, who always had time to talk. Not to mention Harry, always good for a kind word or a laugh with a bad magic trick.

She wouldn't think about Dan. That was a whole 'nother kettle of fish entirely. But, it was interesting. They had started out barely tolerating each other, and now, they had come full circle.

"Girl, you better get your scrawny butt in there, or Harry'll have you thrown in jail for contempt," Roz scooted past her into the courtroom.

"On my last night, it might almost be worth it. I've never seen the inside of the jail."

"Trust me. You _don't _want to go there."

* * *

Before she realized it, the session was over. That was it. No more court reporting for her.

She was going home, and that should have made her happy. But, just as he had done every night for the past two weeks, Dan flew out of there immediately after the final gavel fall.

_Ironic to think your last view is of him running away._

_But, isn't that what you're doing?_

"C'mon, Eve. I think we have a cake in there with your name on it." Harry shook her out of thoughts.

"I told you I didn't want any big deal!" She allowed herself to be led to Harry's office.

Cindy was there, already chatting away with Bull. "Had to check out what drew you away from us in the first place," Cindy drawled, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulder. "Callie fell asleep at Lynette's, so Lynette said she'd just keep her until morning."

There was a cake, 'Good-bye & Good Luck" written across it in blue icing. There was balloons scattered about and even a present or two.

Eve had sworn up and down she would not cry anymore, but she felt her eyes well.

Cindy was by her side. "Don't cry! This wasn't meant to make you sad."

Eve kept her tears at bay. "I just didn't realize how much I was going to miss all of this until now."

Harry actually procured a bottle of bourbon, and they all helped themselves. Before long, they had Cindy laughing about stories from previous sessions, cases none of them would ever forget.

Dan's absence was glaringly obvious.

"He promised he'd at least show up for a minute," Harry hissed at Christine.

"Bull said he was across the street at that bar he likes," Christine whispered back, making sure they were out of earshot.

"You'd think he'd at least want to tell her good-bye. He was going to marry her, for crying out loud!"

"Well, Dan doesn't think like the rest of us, especially when his pride was involved. Don't worry about it. Eve didn't need any of that tonight anyway. This has been hard enough on her as it is."

* * *

Dan went through three glasses of scotch before he remembered the box in the trunk of his car. Things she might want back. Things he didn't want to look at anymore. She had unceremoniously left a box of his own stuff in his office, leaving it there before he arrived at work.

He should do the same thing, give it to Mac or Roz or Bull to give to her, but that would show weakness. And, damned if he wouldn't give any of them the satisfaction!

He paid his tab and made his way back to the car, relieved to note that everyone was still at the courthouse. He wouldn't have to go to her apartment. Too many memories there. He would just hand it to her and leave. No words. Clean break.

He could hear them down the hallway, laughing and chatting. He almost chickened out. If she had wanted this stuff badly enough, she'd have asked for it.

But, his feet made their way to the office door. No one noticed him at first, everyone gathered in little groups, talking and laughing.

Good. He could just leave the box right here, and no one would ever know . . .

"Dan! Glad you could finally make it!" Harry broke away from his conversation with Bull and a blonde chick he barely recognized.

He saw Eve's back stiffen, and she turned around slowly, away from her conversation with Mac and Roz, her expression guarded.

Dan could have throttled Harry. "I . . .uh . . . just needed to drop this off." For the first time since she told him she was leaving, he addressed her directly and without malice. "These are yours. I thought you . . . might want them."

She looked wary. "Oh. Sure. Thanks. Just lay it there, and I'll get it."

He sat it in a chair by the door awkwardly and straightened up. Everyone was still watching him. "Go on," he motioned. "Go back to your party."

"Why don't you have some cake and . . ." Harry started

"No, thanks. I best get going." He avoided looking at her. He couldn't. He was afraid he would lose all his resolve. No matter how furious and hurt he was at her, he still loved her.

And that made him even angrier.

He was out of there before anyone could protest.

* * *

Maybe it was the look on his face of denial, anger and sorrow all balled into one that she saw on her own face when she looked in the mirror. Or maybe it was just the fact that she didn't want to leave everything in such a mess between them. She followed, setting her glass down on the table as she rushed by.

"Dan, wait."

She didn't really think he'd stop. She already decided not to chase him too far.

But, he did.

He turned wearily to face her as she caught up with him at the end of the empty hallway, not sure exactly what she was doing or even why she was doing it.

_The bourbon. It has to be the bourbon. That's it._

His eyes searched hers, seemingly full of contempt, although that's not what she had seen in Harry's office. She was so good at reading him, it was downright scary.

"What?" he demanded.

"I . . . I just wanted to say good-bye."

He rolled his eyes and chuckled wickedly. "I think we've already said our good-byes one way or the other, don't you?"

She focused at a spot over his shoulder for a moment to keep from losing her cool. "None of this has turned out like I want it to. . ."

"Oh, now _that's_ the understatement of the century!" He crossed his arms across his chest protectively.

She hoped she didn't look on the verge of tears. "I never meant to hurt you. This wasn't easy on me, either."

"_Hurting_? Who says I'm _hurting_? Don't give yourself that much credit, Eviegirl." He didn't know why those hateful words kept tumbling out, but they did.

He saw her chin tremble just a hair before she stopped it, her head high. "Good-bye, Dan. And good luck with your life."

She turned on her heel, ready to return to her friends and her party, although she really did not feel very festive anymore.

* * *

A sudden bought of desperation welled in his chest.

_This was it._

He grasped her arm before she was out of reach, making her gasp.

Automatically, he pulled her against him and kissed her roughly. He thought she might claw his eyes out, not that he didn't deserve it, but she didn't, just returned his embrace just as frantically.

He backed off for a moment. "Stay with me, Eviegirl." He kissed her again. "Stay here. I . . . need you."

The smell of him and the taste of him assailed her senses.

_God, how I missed this!_

He was still able to turn her into a pile of useless female hormones. And, he was begging her to stay!

It was what she wanted. To forget the farm and the mortgage and Kentucky and give it all up for him.

But, she just couldn't. It was all she had left of her heritage. Her great-grandparents and grandparents had fought long and hard to build their name and keep their family and their land together. She had to prove to herself she could do it, too.

"I can't," she managed to back away from him long enough to whisper it.

"You _can't_ or you _won't_?"

His lips were inches from hers, and it would be so easy . . .

"Both."

Just as easily as he'd opened himself up to her again, he shoved her away, running a hand through his hair to straighten it where she'd trailed her fingers through it. "Fine."

"Dan . . ."

He turned and headed towards the elevators. "Go to Kentucky. Go to the ends of the earth for all I care. Oh, and while you're at it, go to hell."

He was gone before she could comment. She just stood in the hallway, lips bruised and emotions disbelieving, yet somehow knowing this was how it was meant to end.

* * *

Harry found him in his office, lights dim, staring at nothing at all.

He thought about knocking, but hell, the door was open, wasn't it? So, he strolled inside. "Dan?"

All Dan did to acknowledge his presence was glare at him momentarily.

Harry sat carefully in a chair across the room, trying not to fidget. "Dan, if you want to talk . . ."

"No, I do not want to talk! It won't change a thing. One goddamn _thing_!" He slammed his fist into the desk top for emphasis.

Harry thought for a minute. "I know it hurts, buddy . . ."

Dan stood up, scattering papers off his desk. "Do you, Harry? Do you _really_?" He glared at his friend. "Do you know what it's like to have the best thing that's ever happened to you walk out? Leave without even consulting you first? Like you didn't even matter enough to consult _with_? Because, I don't think you do, Harry. I don't."

Harry made a face. "OK. Fine. I don't understand."

Dan started pacing. "I can't do this without her, Harry. I _can't_!"

"_Stop_ her, then."

"She _won't_! I tried, oh God, how I tried! But, she doesn't care enough to stay. To fight for us. For me." He stopped in front of the lone dirty window staring out across Manhattan.

"I think she does care, Dan. But, she's doing what she thinks is right. I'm not saying it is, but she thinks so."

Dan didn't respond.

Harry stared at his back for a moment, before sighing. "See you tomorrow, Counselor." He let himself out.

Dan stood in the little window for a long time, wondering how his life had gone to hell so fast.

* * *

Cindy offered to drive the rental truck first, Eve's little pick-up attached to a tow trailer behind it. She kept up a bright chatter until they were well beyond the city limits of New York, the view turning to rolling countryside.

"I had a fun time meeting all your friends last night. And, that sign they gave you was the neatest thing. 'Cantrell Farms.' I bet you'll hang it on your barn. Or maybe on a signpost over the driveway. Bull said he wanted to visit. He's never been on a real farm."

"You two really hit it off, didn't you?" Eve wrapped her hands around her still-warm coffee cup, the last of the coffee from her tiny kitchen.

Cindy blushed. "Yeah, he's really nice. I showed him pictures of Callie, and he wasn't even intimidated that I had a child. Like most guys."

"He likes children." She glanced at her friend. "And, you are blushing!"

"Am not!"

"Are so!"

"You are, Mommy." Callie said sensibly from between them.

"OK, fine." She pretended to pout.

Eve shook her head. "I take it he probably really will come out for a visit."

"I told him it was alright," Cindy gushed. "But, I don't have a spare bedroom in my little place in town, and I told him he could stay with you. After all, it's just that sprawling house with just you. Even now that you are renting out the bunk house to that cute little newlywed couple and Marvin is staying downstairs with you, you have so many bedrooms . . ."

"It's fine, Cindy. Don't worry about it. He's my friend, too, and putting him up for a few days would be the least I could do."

Cindy looked relieved. "Oh, good. I couldn't believe I invited him like that, when I had just met him. I was going to bring it up last night, but after . . . well, you know, I didn't want to bother you with it."

Eve looked out the passenger window at the scenery zipping by. She had managed to compose herself after Dan made his dramatic exit. But, she had a hard time even pretending to be happy after that. So, after several tear-filled good-byes, she and Cindy had taken a cab back to her apartment and finished packing. She hadn't explained what had happened, and Cindy hadn't asked.

"You want to talk about it?"

Eve wiped the tears from her face and forced a smile. No time for self-pity now. "You know what? I don't. There's not a thing I can do about it now. Let's talk about your new place. You said it's small . . ."


	29. Talking to Himself in Samplers

Eve threw herself into the farm.

It wasn't her grandmother's farm. It was now hers.

That took some getting used to.

It was grueling work. Now that it was just her and Marcus, they both got up before dawn to feed the horses and a few cattle, sheep and goats. Then, it was off to take care of the foals, then begin some of the colts on their training regimen. There were meetings with prospective buyers, equipment to repair, fences to mend.

But, she made the mortgage payment each month and even had enough left over to squirrel away. It kept the wolves at bay for a little longer, and she took pride in the fact that she was doing it. With Marcus's help, of course.

He was often quiet as they worked side-by-side, and he never brought up Gran. She wanted to ask him about their relationship, but never quite got up the nerve. The older, steely-faced man of her youth now seemed a little older and a little tougher. And just as intimidating. So, she kept her comments to herself.

As if she were not busy enough, the townsfolk treated her as a replacement for her bustling Gran. She found herself on the historical committee, the building committee at church, the horticultural society and anything else her grandmother had allotted time for. She even subbed from time to time for the court reporter for the same aging judge she started working with years ago. The money helped.

She actually enjoyed herself. Always content to sit on the sidelines before Gran died, she now found herself an active member in Bourbon County life.

Surprisingly enough, she became quite popular with the single guys. Ricky, the funeral home director, and Robert, the baby-faced policeman, were her most persistent suitors, but she didn't have time to date, let alone nurture a relationship. So, she gently declined their requests for dates, dancing the fine line between polite rejection and out-and-out rudeness.

But, when she collapsed into bed long after dark, the loneliness she had kept at bay with her farm and her community service would wash over her. No matter what accomplishments she upheld or accolades received, at the end of the day, she had no one to share it with. Sure, Ricky and Robert were nice enough, but she couldn't see herself settling down with either one.

She missed Dan. There were times when she could have used his sly humor to get her through a rough day, or just needed shoulder to lean on or someone to snuggle up against at night.

But, who was she kidding? That wasn't the Dan she remembered. She lost him the day she told him she was coming home. And, that was his problem that he couldn't deal with it, that he had to lash out at her with such animosity. She was just fine without him.

At least, that's what she told herself.

* * *

It was more tiring than he thought. There was murder and robbery and rape and burglary and too many other untold acts human to do other humans. Of course, it was all in a day's work. But that didn't make it any less depressing.

But, still Dan wondered how Harry did it and managed to stay sane. He understood the magic now. An escape.

Oh sure, he had someone to come home to at night, but that always sounded like a cop-out to Dan. Harry and Christine had been married some weeks before, and if he had to listen to either one of them go on and on about how cute the other was doing this or that, he would walk out in front of an eighteen wheeler. It was disgusting. He was happy for them, but it was disgusting just the same.

He wondered if he and Eve were that disgusting.

He saw the old gang occasionally, but now that he had gone his separate way, it wasn't very often. Mainly, they crossed paths in the large courthouse from time to time, often enough to catch up on each other's lives for a moment or two.

He really did miss them, but he'd never admit it to their faces.

Even Bull, although he was seeing the cute little blonde from Kentucky and never failed to mention them or pull out a picture of her and her daughter. Sometimes, Dan wondered if he wanted to rub his face in it, sort of saying, 'ha, ha, you refuse to be with the woman you love, but I would give this all up for the woman I loved.' But, he really didn't think Bull was bright enough for that.

The life of a judge wasn't all it was cracked up to be. There were demands on his time, and on his soul, for that matter that took up more than he was willing to give. For some reason, he thought when he made it to this point in his life, it would be as if all the planets had lined up and infinite happiness would be his.

Not even close.

Sure, there were moments. But, they were few and far between.

He tried to make his own happiness, but falling into strange women's beds did not give him the thrill it once did. He found himself comparing them to Eve, and none of them measured up.

If he wasn't so busy being revolted with himself, he might have admitted that he missed her.

His last night with the old gang, they threw him a party, too. No one mentioned her. That was good. It was too raw in his mind.

Still was. It never failed to amaze him that something would remind him of her, and the wound seemed to open itself up again, almost physically knocking the breath out of him.

But, what good was it? He heard Bull's round-a-bout way of telling him what she was doing. She had gone on with her life. He had gone on with his. Time to pick himself up by his boot straps, put the nose to the grindstone and discover life is what you make of it.

And yeah, when he stopped talking to himself in samplers, he knew he was lying to himself.

And, it sucked.

* * *

"This is so _neat_!"

Eve had to smile at Bull's enthusiasm. "Only you would think mucking stalls is neat."

"But, it's so refreshing! To be outside, one with nature, working with your muscles, the fresh air on your face."

Eve leaned on her shovel. "You know, if you keep talking like that, I might hire you on. Could use the extra muscle around here," she teased. Now that she wasn't so far behind in her bills, she and Marcus had discussed hiring part-time help. But, she really didn't think Bull would leave New York. To her, he was just as much a part of New York as anyone she knew.

Bull managed to look thoughtful. "I might just take you up on that."

She stared at him for a moment. "You're serious. Aren't you?"

"Smile!" Cindy clicked the camera before she had a chance to protest.

Eve held her hands up in front of her face. "Cynthia Faust, you get away from me with that thing!"

"Oh, c'mon. I need some people interacting with nature shots for class, and this is about as close to nature as you'll get," Cindy protested, motioning to the pile of manure. She had started taking photography classes and found she was actually very good at it. "Hey, sweetie." She stood on tip-toe and kissed Bull on the cheek.

"Hey, snookums."

"Oh, gross," Eve complained good-naturedly as she returned to the task at hand.

"Old sensible Eve. Never one to call someone a pet name," Cindy smiled at her friend and shook her head.

"I don't know. She and Dan got pretty good at making googly-eyes at each other."

Eve put a little too much effort into tossing the shovel-full of pungent manure into the wheel barrel. Some of it went over the other side. Just hearing his name stabbed at her heart. Just when she thought she was doing so well . . .

Bull didn't notice her discomfort. But, Cindy did. She changed the subject for her. "Hey, Eve! Who're you bringing to the party?"

"No one. It's my party, and I'll go stag if I want to." That sounded harsher than she intended it to. "I thought you had enough date to share with me." She hoped that made up for it. "What do you think, Bull? Escort two lovely ladies?"

"Hey, good idea! I've never been to a real hoedown before."

"Eve's grandmother threw one every fall. For her birthday, she claimed, but I always figured she liked to have a good time."

Eve wiped her forehead on her sleeve. "Everyone always looked forward to it, and it seems like a good tribute. They'll be a bluegrass band and food and beer . . ."

"Sounds like a plan to me!" Bull said enthusiastically.

"Well, none of us will be going if I don't get these chores done. I've got to help Marcus set up the stage and the lanterns, and find time to take stock of the new stallion he bought to introduce new blood into our herd. Oh, and Cindy, don't forget to bring your camera!"

Cindy held it up, her blue eyes excited. "Oh, I won't. Ever since I won those awards at the fair, it's almost like an extension of my body. You never know when something will come along that warrants a picture."

* * *

"Everyone havin' a good time tonight?" Eve normally hated public speaking, but the sea of faces in the crowd were all family. Rather drunk family, but family nonetheless.

There were a lot of 'yeahs!' and several 'hell, yeahs!' in reply. Eve motioned towards the band. "What do ya think of our little group here?"

More whistles and stomps while the band took a bow, sweeping their cowboy hats low.

"I just wanted to thank each of for coming tonight. There's more beer out back, and plenty of food for everyone!"

The band hit the first few notes of "Kicken' Mule," and Eve found herself swept off the stage and into a fast-paced two-step. Even after a long day of work and even longer prep time, she was having a blast.

She and Ricky, who she didn't even know could dance, let alone two-step, twirled past Cindy, who snapped a picture of her in mid-step.

Eve didn't care. She felt pretty tonight, wearing a thigh-length red dress she and Cindy had shopped for. It was cut low and just a tad short of scandalous, but she didn't care. Although it was October, it was still muggy, so she didn't have a problem with being cold. Especially after all the dancing! Her feet ached in her snug cowboy boots, but she didn't care about that either, throwing her head back and laughing when Ricky twirled her around. It had been a long time since she felt pretty. Usually she just felt tired and grungy after toiling away all day long. But, not today.

Cindy snapped another picture.

Eve still didn't care.

* * *

It was close to 2 a.m. before the crowd trickled away. Marcus had gone straight to bed, muttering something about being too old for this shit. Eve was sitting on the front porch step looking at the mess on the front lawn, Starla's head in her lap. And smiling.

She was glad the newlywed couple renting the cabin had moved to Lexington a couple of weeks ago. The noise would have kept them awake all night. So far, no one had answered her ad to rent it out again, and Marcus was hinting at moving back out there. So far, she hadn't missed the extra income, so she wondered if that was the thing to do.

Honestly, she didn't want to rattle around in this big house alone.

But, she wouldn't think about that now. She was way too happy from throwing a successful party. One her Gran would have been proud of.

The front door opened and the floor creaked and popped.

"Hey, Bull. Thought you were in bed."

"Couldn't sleep. I could probably dance some more, if you're up to it."

Eve motioned to her discarded boots. "I think I'm all danced out. You and Cindy sure seemed to hit it off, though."

"She's great, isn't she?" Even in the dark, Eve could see the dreamy look on his face.

She had to smile. "I'm glad she's found someone like you, Bull. It's been rough on her since Callie was born, and I think y'all are good for each other. I hope I find someone like that. "

Bull managed to look sheepish. "Aww, thanks." He paused for a moment, but plowed ahead. "And, you _had_ found someone like that. Dan."

And just like that, her mood plummeted. She stared out into the yard again. "Bull, you know I don't want to talk about that," she warned.

"It just all seems so . . . so wrong!" Bull lamented.

"Just because it seems wrong to you doesn't mean it's wrong to the parties involved." Eve used her sensibilities to fight the wave of pain. It helped. A little.

"He misses you, Eve."

She ran a hand through her hair, tangled from dancing. "Bull, I'll let you in on a little secret. The last time he saw me, he told me to go to hell. Does that sound like a man who's in love?"

"He said that to you?"

Eve realized her mistake too late. "Don't go throwing him down the trash shoot. He's a judge now, so I'm sure that's breaking some sort of federal law or something."

Bull cracked his knuckles. "Just one trip into the trash?"

"Nope. None."

"You're no fun! I bet Roz will let me throw him down the trash shoot."

"No. No trash shoot."

They sat in silence for a little while longer, Eve finally growing sleepy.

"Can I ask you something, Eve?"

"Sure."

"Did you ask him to come here?"

Her tired mind was confused. "Huh?"

"Dan. Did you ever ask Dan to leave New York and come to Kentucky with you?"

"I . . . don't see . . ." Her brain was tripping all over itself trying to figure this out.

"If you never asked him to come with you, maybe he never realized that was an option. Maybe he would have come with you if you'd only asked. If you just told him it was over and that was it, maybe that's what had him so upset." Bull was gaining steam with this theory, and Eve didn't like it one bit.

She shook her head in exasperation. "Can you honestly see Dan on a farm shoveling manure and _liking_ it?"

Bull actually seemed to think about her question. "I think he'd be happier here with you than he is as a judge in New York."

He broke into a huge stretch and yawn. Even Starla jumped, raising her head from Eve's lap. "Time for beddie-by. G'night, Eve."

"G'night, Bull."

Why, oh why, did he have to do that to her? Now, she was wide awake again, staring in the yard, but not seeing the mess she was to clean tomorrow.


	30. All Woman Auction

Dan rather liked his new office. It was certainly a step up from the DA's office, that's for sure. With a few expensive touches, namely a huge mahogany desk with matching chairs, the room felt rather like home.

Most of the time he treated it like home, falling asleep on the leather couch, the janitorial crew waking him up disapprovingly.

Home. Sure, it was a place he kept his clothes and slept, but it was so impersonal, it made him want to puke. He was always rather content with his condo before Eve. Now that he had erased her from his life, he missed the feminine feel she gave to his place.

_Dammit, there I go again._

It had been months, and it still hurt like she had left yesterday.

He studied the skyline, which he could actually see a little of from here. What he needed to do was go out, find himself a party and a woman, maybe not in that order and have a little fun.

But, even that didn't seem fun anymore.

A knock brought him back to reality. He swiveled around in the chair to face the door.

"Well, Bull Shannon! It's been awhile." Dan actually stood up and reached across his desk to shake his hand.

"Heard you got new digs. Nice."

Dan shrugged. "Not everyone has decorating tastes like Harry."

"Harry and Christine said hi. And Roz and Mac, too."

"Yeah, I saw Roz last week in the cafeteria. She actually smiled at me. Thought I would turn around and see pigs flying around the room."

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

Dan cleared his throat. "So, Bull, what can I help you with?"

"Oh, well, I brought you something." He pulled a small newspaper wrapped bundle from his pocket. "Cindy's gotten really good at photography, and these made me think of you. She actually won a contest with a few of them. The one with the dog."

It was a little discerning to Dan that Bull would think of him at all, but he thanked him just the same.

Bull looked pleased. "Well, see you around, then. Stop by one night and say hi to the gang." He lumbered out the door.

Dan studied the newspaper-wrapped bundle, tied with twine. He took a sip of his drink, a little wary. He was never the nicest of nice to Bull, and he wondered at first if this was some sort of payback. But, it was too flat to be a bomb. And too light.

"Well, it's now or never," he mumbled to his darkened office.

He pulled the twine away, tossing it aside.

When he saw "Bourbon County News" across the crumbled newsprint, he almost stopped right there.

But, when he pulled the paper back he found himself staring . . . at Eve.

_Shit._

He took another swallow of scotch to calm his rapidly beating heart.

She was leaning on a shovel, her brown hair tucked underneath a dusty black cowboy hat, more than a few strands framing her face. She looked country, even down to her tight-fitting flannel shirt. And, she was giving someone, he didn't know who, a most incredulous look.

He'd seen that look before. Someone said something she was having a hard time believing.

She was always so easy to read.

For an instant, Dan wanted to swipe the lot of them into the trash, but like a moth to a flame, he couldn't help himself. He sat the first one aside.

The next one, he liked even better.

She was bent over something, it looked like a small engine, and it was in pieces. Her fingers were covered in grease, and she even had a smear of it on her cheek where she had tried to tuck her hair behind her ear. Her look of utter concentration had him spellbound.

He didn't even know she knew how to fix an engine.

He sat that one next to the first one.

The third picture was an action shot. She was lugging a saddle that looked like it was almost as big as she was, dust swirling around her from the milling horses in the background. One of her monster dogs trotted along side, tongue lolled out. This time, he could see the complete ensemble, the tight jeans, the dirty boots, the flannel shirt. Although her hat hid most of her face, he could see the relaxed way her mouth was set. He knew that mouth better than she did. He saw it, tasted it, every night in his dreams.

Eve was happy. If not happy, she sure was better off than he was.

The last one was totally different. It was not 'Cowgirl Eve on the Farm' anymore.

She was dancing. He could see the arms and the torso, but not the face of her partner.

Right then, he hated that man, whoever he was.

Her hair was loose, longer than he remembered it to be. He had never seen that dress before, either, but then again, it had been months. And, she was laughing, her head thrown back as they whirled. Although there were other people in the picture, many dancing and laughing as well, this shot was obviously all about Eve. Dan could almost smell the sawdust and hear the music. Could almost feel her body against his, the way his hands felt on the small of her back, her laughter echoing in his mind.

Damn, Bull's girlfriend was good!

He laid all four photos in front of him and took all of it in. He didn't realize how thirsty he was for news of her, for a glimpse of her, until he saw them.

The clock on the shelf nearby ticked away the seconds, then the minutes, as he stared, sometimes picking one up to get a better look.

Bull was beyond cruel to do this to him.

The time for anger and tears had long since passed. Now, he was left with an empty bed, empty heart and a mindful of regret.

Had he really told her to go to hell?

Yes, he did.

He was frustrated at a situation that had spiraled out of his control. Still was.

He balled up the discarded page of newsprint in his hand. Then, made himself relax. What was it his doctor said? He was going to drink himself into an early grave if he didn't stress himself there first.

The law was a tough business. Although he wasn't quite 40, it was taking its toll. Of course, the hard partying probably didn't help any. Or the cigars. Or the booze.

He smoothed the newspaper out absently, anything to avoid looking at the Eve pictures. The top story being something about a corn maze for Halloween. Whatever that was.

Underneath an article about an all woman auction, he saw it, almost spilling his drink on himself scrambling to sit up straighter in the chair.

He glanced at the top again. This paper wasn't even two weeks old. Glancing at his watch, he cursed. Courthouse would be closed now anyway.

_What am I thinking?_

He leaned back in the chair until it creaked loudly, running a hand over his face and glancing around his office, then back out at the brightly-lit skyline.

Why had his first reaction been to call the Bourbon County courthouse?

He loved this city. It was so not where he came from, so exciting, always parties to attend and new people to meet. It was his adoptive home, and he was proud of its toughness and its grit. Didn't always make a pretty picture, but hell, life wasn't always pretty.

He glanced at the four pictures carefully laid on his desk.

But, it was all getting old.

_Face it, Fielding. This job is your dream, and it's not making you happy_.

He dreamed of her. Often. He found himself reaching for her in the middle of the night, swearing in his half-asleep state she was right there. But, there was nothing but emptiness. And bitterness that his own pride let her get away. They might have worked something out.

_But, she didn't even ask you to go with her_.

He shook his head and grimaced. Those were old arguments he wasn't going to spend time on again. First thing tomorrow morning, he would put a call in to the Bourbon County courthouse. Before he changed his mind. Even if the retiring judge's position was already filled, he might just go anyway. And prove to himself once and for all that she was truly happy without him.

This time, he wouldn't let pride – his or hers – get in his way.

For once, he went home in better spirits. Just having a plan – any plan – was better than existing day to day in a world that should have pleased him, but didn't.

* * *

He tried not to think about it too much, or he knew he would change his mind. There were too many unknown variables: he might not get the position, he might hate it there, and most importantly, she might not take him back.

The interview had gone well. Although many judge seats in the south were elected positions, this county was different, selecting a committee to fill any vacant seat that came along. He knew he was more than qualified to fill the bench in Bourbon County, but he had to convince these people, on a personal level, that he really wanted the position.

A couple didn't quite look convinced. "You're telling me, Mr. Fielding, that you would leave a position in Manhattan to come here? Not that I think we are at all inferior to your court system, but it seems like a career move that's a little . . . lateral. Don't you think?" One older lady with her hair in a severe bun asked him, peering at him over her glasses.

Dan shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Honesty was the best policy here, but it was hard for him to be honest with himself, let alone strangers in a strange town. "I have made many decisions in my life based on what you are calling a career move and have decided to take a new track."

"Just how did you decide on Bourbon County? You can't tell me you opened up an atlas and plopped your finger down on it?" Another man drawled. Dan recognized him briefly, but didn't think it was reciprocated. Carson. His name was Carson.

"I have . . . personal ties to this place that I would like to . . . reconcile." Seemed like a safe answer.

There was a flicker of recognition in the man's eyes. "Sorry to get so personal on you, Mr. Fielding, but you understand, we have to make sure our county gets the best that is offered."

"Yes, sir."

He closed the file, and Dan took it as a signal the meeting was over.

"Where will you be staying, Mr. Fielding? With friends?"

"Ah, no. Currently, I am at the Winthrop Inn."

"We'll have our decision by tomorrow morning. We'll contact you then."

"Thank you."

Dan shook hands all around, glad this was over.

The man that seemed to recognize him was the last one to leave the room. He was a shorter man with a large belly, but he had an aura of respect about him. He was a man accustomed to deference.

They shook hands. "If you do not have plans this afternoon, I think there is something you may be interested in attending."

"Nope. No plans."

"The Women's Society is hosting an All-Woman Auction in an hour this evening. I'm assuming you're familiar with the term."

"Yes, I am. Quite entertaining events."

"Well, this one has been going on for several years now, and it's always a big hit with the community. After the auction, there is a dinner provided by our lovely ladies, and the highest bidder gets to enjoy the company of the lovely lady of their choice."

"Sounds . . . interesting." Dan was debating on going to see Eve before he heard from the committee. If he didn't get it, would he just go home with his tail between his legs?

No, probably not. He'd come too far to back out now. He'd tried not to over think any of this because it all just felt _right_. But, now that he was here, it was hard to decide what to do and when to do it. And what to say, for that matter.

Mr. Carson got right to the point. "I've seen you. At Zelda Cantrell's funeral awhile back."

"That's right," Dan said a little warily. He may need to go see Eve sooner than he thought. It had been a long time since he had come into contact with such a small town atmosphere, and he needed to remember that news spread fast.

"That granddaughter of hers is something else. She's whipped that farm into shape with nothing but blood, sweat and tears, that gal. But, she works too hard. Needs to loosen up a bit. Glad to see she'll be one of the women on stage tonight. Hope to see you there, Mr. Fielding."

With one last handshake, he was gone.

_Sly old fox, that one._

It wasn't hard to find the civic center, which was a converted abandoned grocery store. Nice set-up, though. The Women's Society had put enough flowers out there to make it look like more than an old building, and someone had outdone themselves whitewashing the building.

Dan was greeted with a bright smile by one of the Women Society members, 'Linda' her nametag said. She explained the rules to him and sent him into the crowded room. He was so nervous, he didn't quite catch all of them. But, he had participated in enough of these to know what to do.

He opted to stand in the back. There was a large crowd there, and he hoped no one came along that might notice him. Everyone seemed to know everyone else, however, and there was a lot of back slapping and hand shaking going on.

He hadn't told anyone in New York what he was doing. Just asked for a few days off and away he went. Don't overanalyze. Just do it.

But, now that he had a few moments to himself, he wondered just what the hell he was doing. This was crazy. Insane. Certifiable. They had both gone on with their lives, and he needed to take the adult way out, get in his car and drive straight back to New York.

But, he thought about the pictures in his coat pocket. He wanted to be part of her new life.

If she'd have him.


	31. What About the Orphans?

"You are going to yank my head of my shoulders if you keep that up!" Eve maneuvered away from Cindy and her 'brush of doom.'

"I just want you to beat that Barbara Ann this year. She's such a snob, and now that Gran is gone, she says she's goin' to break all the auction records this year."

Eve looked in a mirror set up for the ladies' use. Backstage was full of bustling, talkative women, the smell of perfume and hairspray heavy in the halls. "I just agreed to do this because Gran already committed. And it was funny that she could always raise more money than those younger chicks, wasn't it?"

Cindy smiled. "Your Gran had a way about her."

"Yep. She always said real men loved a true lady's company better than any made up tart." Her smile faded. "I miss her sometimes."

Cindy patted her arm. "We all do. She was a grand lady."

"Yes, she really was. One-of-a-kind." Eve made a face. "She always wanted me to do this crazy stunt, and I refused. I think she set this up before she died. She always had the last say in anything."

"Oh c'mon. It's not that bad."

"Oh, that's easy for you to say. You always get the cute young guys bidding on you. I'll be stuck with Old Mr. Acreman and have to stay away from his wandering hands all night."

"I don't know. I think Ricky and Robert might run your price up pretty high."

Eve adjusted the shoulders on her short black dress. It was one she had bought in New York, and it seemed just right for this little deal she found herself stuck with. It was a little tighter than it had been, but being back home agreed with her. Her appetite had improved, but manual labor would do that to anyone.

"I wish I had time to get my nails done." She looked down at her stubby fingernails. She had managed to clean most of the grease and grime from them, but they still looked dingy.

"Oh, wanting to look good for Old Mr. Acreman now, huh?" Cindy teased.

Eve gave her friend a dirty look.

They quieted down when the emcee started the program.

"Welcome, ladies and gentleman to the Sixth Annual Women's Society All-Woman Auction!" He waited for the polite applause to abate. "Last year, as you all know, we raised over $5,000 for the local children's home, so let's get started and break that record!" More applause, this time more enthusiastic.

Dan studied the program. Eve was last. He wondered how in the world she agreed to this. It didn't sound like her, but then again, maybe she'd changed. Maybe she was different than he remembered. Maybe his lack of judgment was going to embarrass him in front of all these strangers . . .

"$750!"

Dan looked up. He was so lost in thought, he didn't realize they were only five into the twenty or so women up for bid, and that was by far the largest bid he'd heard so far. The man, dressed in the usual attire of jeans, shirt and cowboy boots looked smugly at the man across the room he was trying to outbid. There were oohs and aahs from the crowd as the other man made a face and stomped out of the room in defeat.

This was more entertaining than he thought it would be.

The woman on stage, 'Barbara Ann Thomas' Dan read from the program, was teased and made-up to look like an onstage Barbie Doll. But, she managed to throw the highest bidder a kiss before she toddled back stage on six-inch heels. All of the 'contestants' would come out to have dinner with the highest bidders at the end of the night.

Impatiently, Dan tapped his foot, waiting on the end of the auction.

* * *

Eve tried to pull the hem of her dress down further. Although it fit tight enough, she hoped no one right next to the stage could see up it. How embarrassing! She didn't think of that.

Barbara Ann was still getting congratulations from the other women, women Eve knew would roll their eyes and say cheeky things about her when she wasn't around.

It was tempting, that was for sure. Barbara Ann was hard to like, basing all of her abilities into winning a man. So far, she hadn't been able to hold onto one for long, and Eve knew it was because what you say with Barbara was what you got. There was no substance underneath all that make-up.

But, substance hadn't gotten Eve very far in life, now had it?

The closer it crept to her turn, the more nervous she got. Ricky had actually bid on another girl, Abby Lambert, a shy young thing a few years Eve's junior. But, she was more right up his alley, and Eve doubted she'd see much of him from now on. There were still quite a few eligible bachelors out there, judging from who was the highest bidder on each girl.

Cindy brought in $550, and Eve had to gloat good-naturedly over the fact Old Mr. Acreman had chosen her this evening.

Eve hated being put on display. But, it was for a good cause, so when her turn came, she remembered to smile and wave as the walked out from behind the curtain.

The emcee, an old friend of her Gran's, was too kind. "Miss Evelyn Cantrell, one of the largest land owners in the county. One of the prettiest, too." He gave her a wink.

"I don't think your wife would be too happy to hear that, Mr. Reilly," she replied saucily. The crowd laughed.

"Miss Cantrell is participating tonight in the absence of her grandmother, one of our biggest supporters, who passed away earlier this year. Let's do Zelda Cantrell proud, gentleman!"

* * *

So, that's how she was conned into doing this.

Dan was proud of himself for being correct about the situation.

He was also surprised he could even pay attention to what the emcee was saying. The pictures were good, but they didn't do her justice. Eve looked fantastic, healthy, glowing, as she stood demurely onstage as the bidding went higher and higher. Country life definitely agreed with her. She was right after all. This was her home. Where she belonged.

The bidding war went briskly, and it was narrowed down to two men, one of them the baby-faced policeman he remembered from the funeral, and the other an older gentleman he didn't recognize. They had the bid up to $600, but the policeman was looking mighty peaked as it went higher and higher.

"C'mon, men! This talented young lady is worth more than $600. Do I hear $625?"

Dan felt his resolve wavering as he stood in the shadows. Although it was obvious to him she was little bit uncomfortable, she laughed along with the emcee's jokes and answered the catcalls from the audience good-naturedly.

Dan felt out of place. He didn't know what her reaction would be to his presence. Would she be angry, hurt, annoyed? And in front of all these people, too.

Of course, she had the unfair advantage of knowing most of the people in the room, and they seemed to think highly of her, as well. This could get ugly really quickly if she wanted it, too.

* * *

Eve hated when the emcee tried to get the bid higher. It made her feel like she was a disappointment to the club that a man wouldn't part with his hard-earned cash for her.

It looked like the feed store owner, Patrick Dunaway, was going to beat Robert. That was fine. He was a pleasant man, and he was always sweet on her Gran. And, he wouldn't try to feel her up, either.

She tried not to fidget and remembered to look pleasant.

"Six hundred going once, six hundred going twice . . ."

Robert looked disappointed. She made a note to speak to him when this was over.

_Gran, I hope you're loving this._

"Two thousand dollars!"

Even the normally talkative emcee was silenced, his mouth hanging open. There was a collective gasp from the crowd, and people started searching for the bidder, muttering and whispering amongst themselves.

Eve jerked her head towards the voice. There were lights shining in her eyes, so it was hard to see.

_That voice! I would know that voice anywhere . . . no, you're imagining things, Eviegirl._

She could see movement in the crowd. Whoever it was, the crowd was parting for him to get closer to the stage.

The emcee cleared his throat. "Did I just hear you correctly? I am losing my hearing in my old age, you know. Did you say two thousand smackers?"

The crowd answered for him. "You're damn straight that's what he said!" one enthusiastic attendee shouted.

"Well, I'll be damned. OK, folks, do I hear two thousand and fifty?"

* * *

This was a joke. Some kind of strange joke. No one ever bid that high before. Ever.

But, Mr. Reilly seemed to be taking it seriously, honestly asking folks to bid more than _two thousand_.

Eve shaded her eyes with her hands, trying to tell who in the world that was that sounded so much like . . .

* * *

Dan didn't know where that number came from, and he prayed he had enough to cover it in his account. But, it seemed if his fears were true about her getting even with him for telling her to go to hell, then a large donation might calm the restless natives.

Her eyes widened in surprise when he found enough nerve to call out a bid, and she was searching in the crowd, trying to shade her eyes past the bright stage lights.

He made his way forward, his heart hammering in his chest. He had to pay up front, and there was no way anyone was going to outbid him, anyway. He had to get to her.

The crowd seemed to part in deference to his bid, and a few men and women patted him on the back.

"Going once, going twice . . ."

* * *

He stepped into her limited line of vision as Mr. Reilly was finishing.

She put both of her hands over her mouth in shock.

Oh. My. God. It _was_ Dan!

He was watching her with trepidation, almost as if he wasn't sure he did the right thing.

Her first knee-jerk reaction was to jump off the stage into his arms.

_Silly girl. He doesn't want you, remember? He's probably just on his way through town or something. That's right. Just a courtesy call. Nothing more, nothing less._

She made herself smile and wave at the crowd.

"Sold, to the well-dressed gentleman for $2,000! That's a new record folks!"

Those who weren't already standing jumped up, and everybody cheered. She lost sight of him in the crowd and craned to see where he went.

Hands grabbed her and yanked her backstage.

"It was _him_, wasn't it? Why's he here? Did you know? What's going on?" Cindy's questions were thrown at her like arrows.

Eve was at a loss for words. "I . . . don't know."

The other women crowded around her, congratulating her. Eve managed to smirk a little at Barbara Ann flouncing away. She wondered if she'd even stick around long enough to have dinner with the poor man that bid on her.

Dinner! She had to have dinner with Dan!

_Ohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrap _. . .

The backstage manager was lining them up to be reintroduced, while Linda was clearing out the crowd of spectators to make room to set up for dinner.

Eve glanced at the back exit, thinking Barbara Ann had the right idea.

"Don't even think about it," Cindy hissed. "He might get his money back, and what about the orphans?"

_Damn those orphans_.

What was he doing here? Trying to mess up her carefully re-arranged life. True, she missed him awfully, but things were good. The farm was going well, she was surrounded by friends who loved her, and she was glad to be home. She had almost convinced herself she had enough to make her happy.

Whatever he was up to, she wouldn't let him get under her skin. She'd eat dinner, feign a headache and go home. Alone. Without him. _Don't let him play you, Eviegirl_.

* * *

Dan wrote the check with a shaking hand, not because he was worried about the balance, but because of what he had set in motion.

He was the recipient of the backslapping and handshaking he saw earlier. He even caught a glimpse of Carson, and the older man nodded and smiled before putting on his hat and exiting the building.

_Oh, shit, what if he didn't get the position?_

None of it looked good for him. He saw her expression when she first saw him. Mistrustful, wary, guarded. Not at all what he expected. Or wanted.

Tables were being set out, and the emcee started reintroducing each woman to the crowd, giving their bids and their 'dates' for the evening.

Although the smell of food would normally have been tantalizing, Dan thought he was going to be sick. He felt like a kid on his first date. Except more was at stake.

* * *

"You better look thrilled," Cindy hissed at her before it was her turn to join her date for the evening.

Eve stuck her tongue out at the back of Cindy's head.

Barbara Ann huffed by her at the last moment to go back out onstage.

_Ha! You thought you could beat me, heifer! _

If anything at all good came out of this, at least she beat that insufferable woman!

Her heart was pounding so badly, and she knew she was sweating like a pig. Nerves. A big bundle of nerves. This was so out of left field . . .

"And ladies and gentleman, doing her grandmother proud, Miss Evelyn Cantrell!"

Eve remembered to paste a smile on her face when she walked onto the stage, taking her place next to the next highest winning bid, Barbara Ann. And try not to peer past the bright lights for Dan.

"Miss Cantrell's bid is the highest in our auction history, two thousand dollars!" More thunderous applause. "The winning bid was from a Judge Daniel Fielding of New York. I know he's a stranger folks, but let's make him feel welcome. OK, ladies, you know the drill. Time to eat!"

Eve made sure she was the last one off stage. He was at the bottom waiting on her expectantly.

They stood facing each other at the bottom of the stairs for a moment, neither quite knowing what to say.

"You know, you two have an audience." Her best friend hissed as she scooted by, staying away from Old Man Acreman's pincher fingers.

Eve knew Cindy was right, but at this point, she didn't trust herself to touch him or even get too close, for that matter.

So, she stuck out her hand.

He stared at it for a moment incredulously. "You have got . . ."

"Shake it, or I'll make sure all these men with shotguns in their trucks know what you said to me," she whispered harshly. "Everyone's watching."

Feeling like an idiot and not at all encouraged, he shook.

They were pointed towards their table. He moved aside for her to go first, placing a hand on her back automatically.

Eve felt his touch through the fabric of her dress, sending bolts of electricity through her system. She tried to move away, but failed. "Why, thank you so much, Mr. Fielding, oops, I guess I should say Judge Fielding," she said with a smile, all for their eavesdroppers' benefit. "Your donation would surely be appreciated by the children's home."

They were seated and a boy, couldn't have been more than 14, took their order.

Dan couldn't even remember what he ordered, his mind was so jumbled.

This was all a little surreal, not at all like he thought it would be.

She had a chance to study him for a moment, sipping from her water glass. His hair was a little greyer. Apparently, sitting on the bench was harder than Harry made it look. But, he still looked the same, just as roguishly handsome as always.

_Watch it, Cantrell._

He caught her staring and gave her a hopeful smile.

"Dan, I . . . I really don't know what to say." She fiddled absently with a cloth napkin near her plate. "This is all a little strange."

He cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair and propping his left ankle on his right knee, hoping it made him look relaxed despite the fact that his heart was pounding in his chest. "Let's just enjoy this lovely and quite expensive meal and save the serious conversation for later. It seems like you've made quite a name for yourself around here."

For a moment, she looked like she wanted to balk. But, she made a decision with herself. "It's more riding on Gran's coattails, so to speak. I wouldn't have even been here if it wasn't for her already committing to doing it. There's too many chores to be done, and I left Marcus alone most of the day."

"Farming agrees with you, Eviegirl."

Although she had called herself that in her own mind, hearing him saying it made her cheeks flush. "Some days are better than others. What about you? Is being a judge all its cracked up to be?"

"No. It's not."

Eve expected some flippant answer from him, but not that one. "Oh." She grasped for something to say. "Well, it has to be interesting, if anything."

As they were served, conversation floating around them, and they cautiously let each other back into their own lives, giving each other a glimpse of what they had become. Although she thought day-to-day activities at the farm would bore him to tears, he actually was interested in hearing it. And, she didn't realize how curious she was about how being a judge would have changed him. She never would have thought it would.

But, it had.

It wasn't anything major, but he seemed more subdued, careful with his answers. And a little jaded, but he always had a bitter edge to him.

* * *

Dan wanted to haul her outside and kiss her until they were both breathless. The way the candlelight so thoughtfully provided by the Women's Club glowed against her skin made her more beautiful than he remembered. Even her laughter, which was extremely hard to coax from her, made him want her even more.

He saw the distrust in her eyes.

If anything, it saddened him. He did that to her. What he really needed to do was get down on his hands and knees and beg her forgiveness. For being stubborn. For not talking things through like an adult.

Given the chance, he would take it.


	32. The World's Biggest SeeSaw

She was surprised when the 4-H members cleared away their plates. She looked around and realized everyone was saying their good-byes.

Her chair scraped on the floor when she stood up. "Well, it seems we managed to have a civil dinner after all."

This time, she didn't try to get away from his hand on her back as he followed her to the door.

His car, a newer Lexus she hadn't seen, was parked near her Gran's big red pick-up. Her pick-up now.

She didn't want this part of the evening to end. There was a reason he was here, and it probably was a just-passing-through one. It was something special she could trot out on long, cold nights alone, and that's just what she'd have to do.

"We need to talk." His deep voice carried in the darkness

"_That's_ the understatement of the century." She looked around at the groups of folks milling about. "And I don't recommend talking here."

"Well, we could always go back to my room."

Eve cringed.

Dan put up his hands. "That's not what I meant." _Although it would have been nice . . ._

She colored again, and he wanted to brush his fingers against her neck. "No, I was just thinking of what folks would say if they saw us go into that room."

She had a point. "What about your place?"

"Marcus's family's visiting from Montana, and it's a madhouse." She thought a moment. "But, I have an idea. C'mon, get in."

For once, he didn't protest, just climbed up into the cab next to her. "Nice ride."

"Thanks. They don't make pick-ups like they used to, do they? Gran had good taste."

"So does her granddaughter."

"Flatterer." She cranked it up, the powerful engine throbbing.

As they drove, she pointed out local landmarks that could be made out in the dark. They didn't go far out of town when she pulled off on nothing more than a rutted trail. The headlight beams shown on a gate. She rummaged in the ash tray until she came out with the key.

"If you would, open that gate, then shut it behind me."

"You're not going to just keep going and leave me here, are you?"

"What's wrong? The tough New Yorker judge scared of the dark?"

"Oh . . . shut up." He rolled his eyes and did as he was told.

"So, where are we?" he asked as he climbed back inside.

"Very north end of my property. This is mainly used as a hay field."

Although he couldn't make hide nor hair of where they were going, she expertly bumped her way to a copse of trees, then put the truck in park.

The silence was deafening to his noise-accustomed ears, especially after she turned off the truck. He could hear crickets and bullfrogs, and the occasionally lowing of cattle.

She draped her hands over the steering wheel. "OK, this is about as private as it gets." She looked at him, her brown eyes luminous. "What is all this about, Dan?"

He shifted in the seat, draping his arm over the back of it to face her. Plus, it bought him time to think about what exactly to say. "Are you happy, Eve?"

She was a little taken aback, a few vestiges of annoyance welling in her chest. "If you came all this way to ask me if I'm happy, you're a bigger idiot than I thought."

He signed exaggeratedly. "How come nothing with you is ever easy?"

"_Me_? Not _easy_? I've gone along with this entire evening just waiting on the other shoe to drop. I suggest you spit out whatever motive you had for making this trip and get it over with!" She tried not to yell in the close quarters of the cab in this truck, but it was difficult.

"You are so damned difficult!" He reached in his inside coat pocket and tossed the pictures onto the dash. Eve grabbed them and stuck them in front of her face, her eyes widening as she realized who was in them.

She recognized them as Cindy's. "Where did you get these? Because if Cindy sent them to you . . ."

"Bull gave them to me. He told me you missed me."

"He said _what_? That is _not_ what I said! _Ooooo_, if I get my hands on him . . ." She had to toss the photos back on the dash to get from crumpling them in her fists.

"Well, what _did_ you say?"

Eve rested her forehead on the cool leather of the steering wheel. "He told me you missed me. Then, he wanted to know if I even asked you to come with me before I left. He seems to think that if I asked you, you would have gone." She laughed darkly. "I told him that would never had happened. A farmer's life is not for you."

"How do you know? You never asked."

She looked at him hard. "Would you have come with me, Dan? Would you have left everything for me?" She looked away. "Never mind. Because you know something, I wasn't going to ask you to do something I wasn't willing to do myself. It wouldn't have been fair."

He ran a hand through his hair. "No, I wouldn't have gone with you."

"See? It's just as I thought anyway. . ."

"Would you let me finish?"

"OK, OK, fine, finish."

"It's taken me these several months to realize something. Sure, I had my bench and the power and prestige that goes with it. But, now give me a minute because you know this kind of stuff is hard for me - I was miserable. I _am_ miserable. I want to have someone to come home to and tell about the ups and downs of my day. It's nothing without someone special to share it with."

She was silent for a moment. "_Why_ are you doing this?" she asked in a low voice. "Did you come all this way to tell me this, only to go your merry way in a couple of days? That's _cruel_! That's . . . that's . . ." She couldn't think of anything else. Instead, she threw open the door and climbed out, slamming it so hard, the truck rocked.

Dan immediately followed, rushing around the front of the truck.

"Eve! Wait!"

But she hadn't gone far at all. She was standing at the back bumper of the truck, her arms wrapped around herself protectively, looking into the darkness.

He carefully made his way, standing inches behind her, but not touching her.

She could feel him behind her, could smell his cologne in the chilly breeze. When he took of his coat and wrapped it around her, she wanted to shove it off, to tell him to take a hike back to town. She had to be strong, so when he left, she wouldn't be back at square one.

But, it smelt of him. She didn't know how much she had missed it until it enveloped her.

He tugged her hair gently out of the collar, his hands lingering on her shoulders. "Eve, I didn't come all this way to tease you. But, I have to know something?"

"What?" she sniffed.

"Do you still . . .have feelings for me? Because if you don't, I swear I'll go back and leave you alone."

She turned around suddenly to face him. "If I said yes, what good would it do? You still have your life in New York, but my place is here."

He brushed a strand of hair away from her mouth. "Tell me, Eviegirl."

Her eyes welled up, her resolve crumbling. "Fine! I _still_ love you! Is _that_ what you want to hear? Sometimes, I miss you so much, it hurts! It's almost as if you were supposed to be here with me, and you're not . . ."

He leaned down and kissed her soundly, pulling her up against him. All the fight had gone out of her, and all she was able to do was return his kiss just as passionately. God, how she'd missed him!

But, he'd be leaving her. Alone.

She shoved herself away from him and started to stomp away into the darkness.

"Wait . . ."  
"Don't you follow me, Dan Fielding! I swear I will punch you if you come near me!"

Dan wasn't sure what just happened, but he blurted the first thing that came to his mind. "Eve, I've interviewed for the county judge seat."

That stopped her in her tracks. "You _what_?"

"Bull had those pictures wrapped in a piece of newspaper, and there was an article about the judge retiring, and I applied for the job."

She turned around, her face white in the darkness. "Did you get it?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Carson told me he'd tell me tomorrow."

She stomped back in his direction. "So, _when_ were you going to tell me this?"

"I _tried_ to tell you, but you wouldn't shut up long enough for me to get it out!"

"You didn't try hard enough!"

"Well . . . fine! I told you now, didn't I?"

"This evening has been the world's biggest see-saw! First, you show up here, and I'm just so totally convinced you're playing with me. Then, you tell me you are willing to give up your dream job in Manhattan for . . . for this!" She motioned around her. "This is crazy! Wild! Unbelievable! And why in the hell did we not think of this before?"

With a whoop of joy, she jumped into his arms, and this time she kissed him.

Her kiss of joy quickly turned into one of passion, and he had her pressed up against the cab of the truck, searching for the zipper on her dress.

"Wait! Just a minute!" she pulled back, gasping.

"What is it now, for God's sakes?"

"What if you don't get it?"

"Get what?" he was breathing hard, trying to decide if the front seat of her truck would work for what he had in mind.

"The county judge seat, dummy!"

"Trust me, I've thought of that. And, I don't care. I'm staying here. I'll hang up my shingle downtown and be a country lawyer or something."

She looked into his face. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Hell, yes! If you don't get out of this dress, I'm going to rip it off you!"

Her laughter bubbled up. "Not sex, silly! Leaving New York!"

He put both of his hands against her cheeks. "Trust me. I'm serious. I'd rather be here with you than alone in New York on DC or anywhere for that matter. I was a fool for letting you go, and I'll not make that mistake twice."

"Good. I'm glad we got that straight." She pressed her lips against his. He was reaching for the door handle, one hand up her dress, as she moved against him, almost making him dizzy.

Then, there was a light in his eyes. Dan squinted, but all he could see was the shape of a man.

"Eve? Is that you?"

"Oh, shit," he heard Eve mumble as she tried to straighten her dress, shoving him aside. "Yes, Marcus, it's me. Now, would you get that damn flashlight out of my eyes?"

Marcus flicked it away. "Oh. Sorry. I just saw lights when I was taking Timothy coon huntin', and I thought it might have been poachers. Or something. So, I called the law."

"Uh, hey, Miss Cantrell." Another flashlight flicked on.

Eve put her hand over her face. "Hey, Sheriff Carson."

Dan looked at her. "Sheriff? He's the _sheriff_?"

Sheriff Carson looked at them both, his eyes dancing in the glare from both flashlights. "Looks like harmless necking to me, Marc."

Marcus managed to look sheepish. "Yeah, guess so."

"Let's let the judge and Miss Cantrell resume their nocturnal activities."

Marcus looked confused. "Judge?"

Carson was enjoying this way too much. He rocked back on his heels. "Well, since you were the only applicant for the position, and you are way more than qualified, it's a safe bet for me to speak for the committee when I say welcome to Bourbon County."

Dan was stunned, shaking the sheriff's hand in a stupor. "You mean . . . I got it? I can stay?"

"Well, it seems to me you better if you're going to throw her in the cab of that truck like you were fixin' to do."

"Oh, good grief." Eve muttered, waves of embarrassment washing over her.

"Next time you get a little idea to participate in nocturnal activities under the stars, please tell your foreman, alright?"

"Right." Eve muttered.

The sheriff walked into the darkness whistling.

Marcus shifted uncomfortable form one foot to another. "Sorry, Eve. I . . ."

"Don't be sorry. My fault entirely."

He looked relieved. "I . . . think I'll be going now."

"You do that."

Marcus practically raced into the darkness behind the sheriff, leaving them alone.

Dan picked her up and twirled her around. "I did it, I did it! I got the job. I don't think I was this excited about the Manhattan judge position!"

She giggled like a little girl until he sat her back on her feet. "Now, before I get carried away again," he reached into his pocket and pulled out the same blue ring box, dropping to one knee on the middle of her hay field. "Will you marry me?"

Eve's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh my . . .oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes! I'll marry you."

With a shaking hand, he put the ring on her finger. "It's about damn time, you know. I feel like I've been carrying that thing around for a year!" He kissed her again, and they picked right up where they left off.

"Let's go back to your room," Eve managed to pant. "Don't want someone else to come trotting along."

Dan didn't think he could wait any longer. "What about not wanting anyone to see . . ."

"You're going to be my husband, and I'll do what I want with my husband-to-be whenever I want! Plus, I've had sex in the backseat of the car when I was eighteen, and I don't recommend it."

Like two teenagers, they raced down the road to the Winthrop Inn, which was thankfully deserted this time of night.

Giggling, they made it to his room and slammed the door behind them.

"I feel like we're doing something bad," she whispered as he nuzzled her neck and unzipped her dress.

"I _will_ if you'd just be still!"

* * *

One more chapter, and the torture . . . oops!, I mean story . . . will be over!


	33. I Live Here I Don't Farm It

"So, how's it goin' out there, folks? Havin' a good time?"

Yells, whistles and applause filled the air.

Eve grinned out at the crowd. "Well, you better be, or all of you who knew Gran would know she'd haunt the lot of you who weren't havin' a good time!" More yells and whistles in agreement.

"I think she'd also like to know we're continuing the tradition of celebrating her birthday by showing some New Yorkers how it's done, don't you?" She motioned towards the crowd where her friends were gathered, beers in hand. They waved as the "yeahs!" and "hell, yeahs!" echoed from the crowd.

"Well, guys, what are you waiting for? Let the music begin!" Her favorite local band launched into a Creedance song as Eve took Bull's hand, and they launched into a two-step right in the middle of the crowd.

Quon Lee danced by with Marcus, barely keeping up. "Great party, Eve!"

"Thanks!" Eve called out.

After one dance, she went into the kitchen to check on Cindy. Christine was helping her get some of the last minute party food together, and laughing, they carried it outside to the already overflowing tables.

Dan caught her from behind. "Need to stop and enjoy your own party, Eviegirl," he kissed the back of her neck as he said it.

She swatted him away. "I will! We have all night. Trust me."

He took her by the hand and twirled her around. "I really like that dress. What if I want to get you alone for something else before this is over with?"

"You're acting like a newlywed or something," Eve said, blushing, hoping no one heard.

"Well, aren't we? It's only been what, six months?" He kissed the tip of her nose.

"Don't even pretend you don't remember!"

Harry and Mac worked their way through the crowd, beers in hand. "Eve, this is amazing! Are you sure the neighbors won't mind all the racket?"

Eve motioned around. "What neighbors? There's not another neighbor for a half mile."

Dan pointed to an old couple cutting a rug on the dance floor. "And, there they are."

"Cute," Mac nodded. "But, isn't half of what's going on out here breaking all sorts of laws? You know, public drunkenness and noise ordnances and such?" He named several of more common laws they dealt with back in Manhattan.

"Don't forget prostitution," Dan motioned towards a rather heavily-made up woman hanging all over an older man, who looked like he was enjoying himself.

"_Really_? Here? There's that kind of thing? No _way_!" Harry had had a little too much to drink.

Eve shrugged. "There's one in every small town."

"And she's waltzed through my courtroom just as much as some of the regulars in New York," Dan added.

"I know small towns can be a little . . . uh . . . close-knit. It hard to get used to that?" Mac asked.

Dan draped his arm over Eve's shoulders. "I had the Cantrell name behind me. It's worth its weight in gold in the entire county."

"Gonna change the name of the farm? I saw the 'Cantrell Farm' sign we got you when you left New York hanging at the gate? You know, Cantrell-Fielding or something like that?"

Eve looked up at Dan. "We discussed it, but it's been Cantrell Farms for four generations. My grandmother didn't even change her last name at all when she got married. Didn't seem right to change it now."  
Harry shook his head. "You know, I never thought I'd see the day when you lived on a farm, Dan. If you'd have told me it would turn out like this, I'd have told you that you were crazy."

"Hey, I live here. I don't farm it."

Eve laughed. "No, he doesn't!"

"I don't even like horses. Or cows."

"The gentlest horse we had threw him right in the creek the first week we were married. I laughed so hard, I almost fell off mine."

Dan took a swig of his drink. "Haven't been on one of those beasts since."

"Oh, come on, Dan! There's gotta be something you like?" Harry asked.

"Oh, sure. You should see the sun come up over the mountains in the morning. And the peace and quiet. And watching the foals play. It's all really . . . fulfilling." He looked down at his wife. "I wouldn't change any of it. Especially since Eve can fix my car! Whoever says a mechanic in the family isn't priceless is crazy!"

A gaggle of children ran across the dance floor, squealing, trying their best to avoid being stepped on, momentarily distracting them.

"So, how's Bull working out?" Mac asked.

"Good, actually. He and Callie moved into the foreman's house. Marcus built him another house just over there. He's great to have around for all those heavy-duty chores. And, the animals just love him."

"Mistakes him for their maker, I guess," Dan muttered. Eve elbowed him in the side, and he gave her a dirty look.

Roz, all decked out in with cowboy hat, boots and tight-fitten' jeans sauntered up. "Not bad, Eve, not bad. Good food, good beer, good music. Somebody might get naked 'fore it's over with."

Harry and Mac laughed.

"Don't laugh. It's happened before." Dan pointed out.

"I doubt it this year. After all, the judge is in residence now," Eve giggled.

Roz shrugged. "Wouldn't stop most these folks, I imagine. 'Specially that chick," she pointed at the 'town trollop' who was dragging the older man towards the barn.

Dan rolled his eyes. "Excuse me, while I break this up. Not on this property, she won't."

"Oh, I've _got_ to see this!" Mac and Harry followed closely, giggling like children.

Eve and Roz watched them go. "So, you happy, Eve?"

"Very."

Roz nodded once. "Good. I'd hate to have to kick his ass." She was quiet for a moment before continuing. "I never thought in a billion years that the two of you would ever get back together. But, when both of you came waltzing into Harry's office that night, wanting him to marry you, I had to admit, I was happy for you. Both of you."

"Even Dan?"

Roz made a face. "Yes, even that cretin. But, now he's your cretin, so I guess I have to make nice."

A few days after Dan had interviewed for the judge's position, she'd returned to New York with him. He turned in his two-week notice, then they'd waited until the night session to 'waltz' into Harry's office, as Roz so eloquently put it, to ask him to marry them.

Reluctantly, she returned home the next day without him, now Mrs. Evelyn Cantrell Fielding, and Agatha had thrown the world's largest hissy fit, declaring that her grandmother would be appalled that she'd even consent to marry without even a decent wedding gown.

Eve let her grandmother's old friend rant, and when she was done, kissed her on the cheek and told her that Gran would have most certainly approved. That's how she married Pappy anyway. Before an Army priest.

"Well, that was wartime," Agatha grumped, but couldn't argue. But, she could argue with Dan's absence.

But, he wasn't gone long. The minute his two-week notice was up, Eve was knee-deep in furniture, wondering just where in the hell she was going to put all his junk.

But, dammit, she was happy!

* * *

It was close to dawn before the last of the party-goers stumbled to the barn to sleep it off or were driven home by someone who was hopefully a little more sober. Harry, Christine, Mac and Quon Lee were staying in the extra rooms in the field house with Bull and Cindy. Roz was supposed to be sleeping upstairs in Eve's old bedroom, but she had mysteriously disappeared earlier in the evening, along with one of Eve's part time-helpers and longtime friends.

She and Dan were sitting on the front steps, surveying the damage.

"So, how do you think Buster's guitar got way up there in that tree?" Eve asked, craning her neck. She could just barely make out the silhouette of a guitar near the very top. She was sitting one step lower than he was and leaned against his leg.

"I don't know, but I'm not going after it." He lightly played with her hair, and his fingers were warm on her skin. "So, we have to do this every year?"

"I don't see why not. Plus, you seemed to enjoy yourself." She gave him a little shove with her shoulder.

"I did." He shoved back. "But, I will _not_ enjoy cleaning this up. Too bad I have to go into the office tomorrow morning."

"Oh, no, you don't, Dan Fielding! You will not leave me with this mess!"

"Isn't that what Bull's for?"

She stuck her tongue out at him, and he laughed.

They sat that way for a long time, the soothing sound of crickets filling the cool fall air.

Yes, dammit, they were both happy.

* * *

Thanks to my loyal readers! Hope you enjoyed it. - tonygirl


End file.
